


The Blue-Eyed Boy

by subtextismygod



Category: Supernatural
Genre: John is a horrible parent, M/M, Protective Gabriel, Sammy still wants to go to Stanford and is still a huge nerd, Supportive-bother Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 18:06:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 24,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17472380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtextismygod/pseuds/subtextismygod
Summary: Supernatural High School AUDean and Sam Winchester move from city to city every three months. At the beginning of the school year, they find themselves back in their home state: Kansas. The brothers begin school and meet a family of people named after angels, a self-proclaimed Ultimate Lesbian Geek, and a boy in advanced placement.Before they know it, sparks have flown in every direction, as Dean tries to figure out which way he swings, and Gabriel tries to figure out his feelings for the youngest Winchester.





	1. Highway to Hell

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic on AO3 so I hope you all like it! I’ve watched Supernatural for a while now and am seriously excited to be able to contribute my piece to the fandom! 
> 
> Without further ado: Carry on my wayward sons and daughters!

_“Heat of the moment!”_ Dean jolted awake. First day of the new school. Fucking John making them move from city to city every couple months. Never allowing his sons to settle down enough to tell people how he beat them half the time and was drunk the other half. This was the first time they had ever come back to Kansas, though. Since Dean and Sam’s mom died in an arson fire when Sammy was barely six months old.

Dean slammed a hand on the snooze button, then flung off his covers. He hadn’t undressed last night, but just took off his jacket to leave the jeans and tight-fitting grey t-shirt. He pulled a thing of flannel from his ever-shrinking closet and shrugged on his brown leather jacket— the only stable part of his life, other than Sammy.

That was a lie. There was also the 1967 Chevy Impala, John’s only gift to Dean. And there was also the promise that in three months, they would leave whatever new hell this would turn out to be. At least Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen lived here, with little Jo who would be starting her freshman year this year.

Maybe John had specifically picked here to give the Winchesters a brief reprieve.

They were renting a three-area motel room until John found a place for to settle for the few months they would live here. Sammy slept in the bed next to Dean, and John was in the other room. Dean shook his little brother awake, his long hair mussed on the pillow. “Sammy,” he whispered. “Come on, get up.”

Sam groaned as he blinked his eyes open. He, like Dean, hadn’t changed last night, and still wore his red flannel and jeans. “Is Dad awake?” He asked Dean.

“Just get up. I’ll drive us to school.” Dean knew that John had stumbled into the room last night, drunk as hell, and passed out on the couch. He didn’t want his shit father driving his little brother anywhere.

He gave Sam a glass of water and a breakfast sandwich, and they started the hour-long drive to the high school. As soon as they were out of sight of the motel, Dean clicked on his music, a collection of classic rock he had discovered through John. AC/DC came on, and Dean’s mood quickly rose.

Sam and Dean laughed and lip-synced to their playlist, Dean even taking his hands off the steering wheel for a short guitar solo. The presence of John Winchester was a damper on their moods, Dean realized.

_“Hiiighway to hell! Hiiiighway to hellllll!”_ Sammy sang.

Dean cracked up when Sam did a perfect imitation of the final guitar solo, even going to flip his brown hair once. He loved his brother.

Bobby had called Dean the day before to ask to meet him and Ellen before school at the car repair shop that Bobby owned. Pulling into the lot, Dean slowed the Impala to a stop and got out, leaving their bags in the car. Bobby was sitting in the shop, trying to piece together what seemed to be a similar gun to what John owned.

“Bobby!” Sam exclaimed, and went to hug his uncle. The Winchesters weren’t technically related to either Bobby or Ellen, but they had almost adopted the boys when Mary had died and John had gone on a one-man mission to get revenge on the supposed arsonist.

The Singer-Harvelle family was close enough to the Winchesters that they were family. Bobby hugged Sammy, who was taller than him already. Dean was next, gripping Bobby tightly.

“Hey there, boys!” Ellen emerged from the back area of the shop, Jo in tow. Something seemed different, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. Sam went to talk to Jo, leaving Dean alone with them. Ellen’s expression of enjoyment quickly turned to one of concern. “How has he been?” By her tone, Dean immediately knew she meant John.

“Peachy,” Dean replied sarcastically. Both she and Bobby gave him a reproachful look. “He’s been passed out most of the time. Hits me more than Sammy, at least.”

“You’ve got to do something,” Bobby urged. “You can’t live like this forever.”

“I don’t have to. I’ll turn eighteen in six months. I can adopt Sam and move out, far away from wherever Dad is.”

“He won’t like it.”

“I don’t care. Fuck him. As long as I get Sammy out of there, I’ll be fine. He wants to go to Stanford, you know that? Dad wants him to stay and do whatever the hell he does for a job,” Dean replied.

“Stanford? You think he could make it?” Ellen asked, glancing over to where Jo and Sam were laughing together.

“He’s a smart kid.” Dean said in a way of answer. Jo leaned into Sam, her head resting on his shoulder. “They’d make a good couple.”

“She’s already got someone,” Bobby said. Dean rose an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“You know Charlie Bradbury?”

“Nah, he gonna be at the school?” Dean needed to be sure that whoever his little Jo was dating was a good kid. Ellen and Bobby exchanged glances.

“Jo!” Ellen called her daughter over. Jo ran over and Dean at once realized what seemed different. Her hair, once long, was now much shorter, and some of the blonde strands were dyed light blue. “Tell dean about Charlie.”

”She’s awesome. She’ll be at school, you can meet her!” Jo said.

She.

The word clanged through Dean. She. Little Jo was dating a girl. He didn’t mind, not really. He was fine with people who were gay or bi or anything else. He just didn’t expect someone so close to him to be gay. Which was stupid, he thought, that he assumed that Jo was straight.

“I just told Sam, I came out as bi a couple months ago,” she explained. “I wanted to call, but when I heard you were coming to Kansas, I decided to wait until you were here!” Huh. Jo was bi.

“Congrats, kid,” Dean only said, hugging her tight. Even if Bobby and Ellen were faux-uncle and faux-aunt, Jo was like a sister to Dean and Sam. It was nice to know that his little sister was confident enough in herself to tell him she was bi.

That was more than Dean could say for himself.

XX 

    As the door to the Impala slammed shut, Dean realized how forbidding the school looked. The windows were tall, thin, and far between. The concrete walls were devoid of color.

    He was glad to see that the kids were the exact opposite. A girl with long, red hair was leaning against the hallway, reading something on her phone, smiling lightly. Jo’s face lit up and she ran to hug the girl. “Charlie!” Charlie started for a second, then clutched her girlfriend tight.

    “Hey! Who are these?” She motioned to Sam and Dean when they broke apart.

    “They’re family, Sam, Dean,” Jo introduced them both. Sam waved awkwardly, and Dean just gave a small smile. “Mind if they sit with us at lunch? They’ll need a spot to hang.”

    “That’s great! Kev and Garth are sitting with us, too,” Charlie said.

    Dean took the moment of silence to exit the conversation. “It was great to meet you, Charlie. We’ll let you guys catch up.” He grabbed Sammy by the hand and lead him away.

    “What the hell, Dean?” Sam asked.

    “Watch it,” Dean warned. “We need to go over the rules.”

    “Really? We go over them every time!”

    “Then tell me what they are.”

    “Don’t get too close to anyone, assume we leave the next day. Never talk about Dad. Never talk about Mom. Never talk about where we live, never talk about how we leave,” Sam recited, growing more exasperated with each rule.

    “Good. Have a good day, Sammy.”

    “It’s Sam, okay? Where are you going?”

    “Rule one Sammy. Charlie is a liability. I’m headed to the library.”

    Sam scoffed. “The library? Dude, that’s the last place you should go! What are you going to do? Read? I know you think it’s tedious, so don’t lie.”

    “Beats getting depressed when we leave.” Maybe they could move back here. When Dean left John and took Sammy, they could live in this small Kansas city with Ellen and Bobby and Jo and Charlie. “Be safe, okay?”

    “Promise.” Sam replied. “You too.”

    “Always.” He would stay alive, safe, for the sole reason of protecting Sam. If Dean were gone, he couldn’t shield his little brother from their father’s savage blows with fists or belts or empty glass beer bottles. Then Sammy would be the one with scars on his stomach and sides and face from shards of glass, or white marks on his back when the metal part of the belt hit him.

    Sammy had cried the first time John had hit Dean. He had screamed for him to stop, but John was angry. When he was angry, Dean could only hope that he would keep his eyes off Sam. John had turned on the little boy, only five at the time. Dean was so scared that John would hit his brother, he just punched him. Straight in the face.

    He missed a week of school as his wounds healed. John barely showed a morsel of remorse.

    Dean rubbed the back of his neck, where he could still feel the shards of glass slicing into it if he thought hard enough. The scars were ones that never faded. Like the ones on his back and face. People usually thought that he had anger issues, or fought competitively. No one ever associated the scarred boy to his drunken father whom they never glimpsed.

    The library was full of people chatting or working on homework. A short boy, probably a freshman, bumped into Dean, his head in his phone. “Sorry,” he said, then kept walking. Dean thought he recognized the four-color crest on the kid’s shirt, but the reference evaded him.

    He found himself an unoccupied table in a corner, and he pulled out the nearest book. _Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone_. Suddenly, he remembered the crest. The Hogwarts crest. Sam had doodled it in middle school, and he would tell Dean that he was the bravest Gryffindor in the world. Dean had no clue what a Gryffindor was, or how that made him brave, but he smiled whenever Sam said it.

    The first page of the book had been torn out, but the rest of the table of contents and the chapters were more or less intact. Shrugging, Dean started to read about little Harry Potter and his adventures as a wizard. A few pages in, a tall boy with messy brown hair tapped Dean on the shoulder. “Mind if I sit here?”

    “Fine.” Dean replied. He didn’t want to talk to the stranger. The stranger, however, wanted to talk to him.

    “You look new. Are you new? What’s your name?” he asked, running his fingers through his hair, making it even messier.

    “Yeah. Dean.” He hoped his short and curt answers told the stranger that he wanted to stay in silence.

    “Nice to meet you. I’m Cas. Castiel, technically, but it sounds too formal.” Against his wishes, the name made Dean’s interest peak.

    “Castiel? Don’t tell me you were named after an angel.” Dean laughed.

    “Actually, yes. My parents aren’t religious, just wanted to keep the tradition, I guess.”

    “Tradition?” The absurdity of it all…

    “My brothers. I’m a middle child. My older brother is Luci, and my younger brother is Gabriel.”

    “No way. Your brother is named Lucifer?” Holy shit. That was the funniest thing to Dean. he burst out laughing. Cas seemed uncomfortable. “Sorry, I just. I have a brother, too. Sam.”

    “He tells everyone to call him Luci, but yes, he is named Lucifer,” Cas swallowed a bit and said nothing more. Screw this.

    “What classes do you have today?” Cas looked up and Dean noticed something he hadn’t before. Cas’ eyes were strikingly blue, and he looked… cute.

    “I start with Government, then I have Pre-Cal, AP-Chem, then Theology.” He paused. “What about you?”

    “Government, Latin, AP-Literature, Theology.”

    “We have two classes together,” Cas stated. Out of nowhere, the bell rang, a loud beep that echoes through the library. Students began to shuffle out the doors to their classes, and Dean pulled his bag onto his back.

    “Want to walk with me?”


	2. Way Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel Novak starts his sophomore year in high school, where he meets Sam Winchester, a seriously attractive boy who has Gabe’s heart pounding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wrote this in two separate parts, so sorry if the time-jump is a little confusing. Nonetheless: enjoy!
> 
> Carry on my wayward sons and daughters!

This morning was the beginning of a good day for Gabriel Novak. He knew it. The sun was shining, and he had woken well-rested and happy. Cas had fallen out of his bed in the room he shared with Gabriel, snoring loudly. His dark brown hair was ruffled in the cutest way. 

Luci had kept his music quiet for once, a sign that Michael had come over to spend the night. Luce would never let his music wake up his boyfriend. When he thumped moodily down the stairs, his dad was making pancakes in the red non-stick pan he had bought three days ago. The smell wafted around the kitchen and Gabe slid himself onto one of the bar stools. 

His dad slid him a plate of pancakes with strawberry jam drizzled over it, then a cup of coffee followed seconds later. He poured some sugar into it and cut into his pancakes, fluffy and perfectly cooked. 

Cas came down a second later, his hair still mussed by sleep and his bright blue eyes were dulled by the fog of weariness. He wore a sweatshirt and jeans, his black tennis shoes untied. His pancakes had blueberries strewn over them and the syrup was a classic maple. 

The television flipped onto the news, which showed that there would be sun and mid-70s temperature the whole day. Extremely rare for Kansas in August, but beautiful weather nonetheless. Gabe had thrown on a loose shirt with a Hogwarts crest on the front and black sweatpants. 

Gabriel was the youngest of the three Novak boys. Luci was the eldest, then Cas, then Gabe. Gabe was going to be in his sophomore year this year, and Cas in his senior year. Luci had given up on his education and didn’t go to college, and he occupied his childhood room because they hadn’t gotten to the point where Michael let Luci move into his apartment. 

Cas, Gabe, and Chuck had a bet on when Luci and Michael would move in together. Cas had it in for September, less than a month from now. Gabe had his bet for Christmas Day (Chuck said it was too specific, but Gabe believed in the power of Christmas spirit), and Chuck had claimed that February was the perfect moment.

Cas was going to drive Gabe and himself to school, so they piled into his sky-blue pickup truck, Gabe sticking earbuds in his ears. Music flowed into his ears and he nodded his head to the beat, staring out of the window. The flat grasslands flew past, and he was honestly excited for the first day of school. 

Cas said something in the background of his music, that Gabe didn’t hear. In retaliation, Cas pulled one out. “Gabe,” he said. “I said: are you going to ask that guy out? What was his name?” 

“Gavin. He’s the grandson of the Government teacher, Ms. MacLeod.” He had told his family he was pansexual the year before, after expressing his interest in Gavin MacLeod, the son of the mayor, Crowley, and grandson of the Government teacher, Rowena.

“Yeah, I know, I have her this year. You going to ask him out?”

Gabe thought for a moment. “Maybe not. I heard through the grapevine that he got a girlfriend, Fiona Duncan. Charlie says he doesn’t like guys, anyway.” Gabriel’s grapevine consisted of juniors, sophomores, and freshmen who owed him or were just friends with him. Charlie Bradbury knew all the LGBT+ kids at their high school, and even if they weren’t out, her gaydar was  _ never  _ wrong. It was a superpower, she said. 

Charlie was starting the high school this year, but Gabe already knew her from the rest of his grapevine. She was the self-proclaimed Ultimate Lesbian Geek, and her girlfriend, Jo, was the daughter of the local mechanic. Through Charlie, Gabe also knew Kevin, an ace boy who was in advanced placement, and Garth, Kevin’s bi boyfriend. 

“What about you? Know any guys you wanna date?” Charlie had taken one look at Cas and whispered in Gabe’s ear ‘gay’. Gabriel had never brought it up until then, but he and Cas were alone, so there wasn’t pressure to come out. Anyway, their family was accepting, given that Gabe was pan and Luci was gay.

”How’d you gue—,” Cas replied, eyes glued to the road, giving no hint to his shock.

“Charlie’s never wrong,” Gabe replied. “Come on, man, you can tell me. I heard there’s some new kids coming in anyway, you might like one. He’s a senior.” 

“Fine. I’m gay. But I don’t really like anyone.”

“Fair, fair.” Gabriel made a mental note to set his brother up with someone. Maybe this new kid. He was the same age as Cas, at least. Gabe ran his hands through his honey-colored hair. 

“What about you?” Cas asked, glancing over to Gabe. “Any kids other than Gavin?” 

“Not really. Half the sophomores are jackasses anyway. I’ll wait for someone to come to me.” That was only half a truth. Gabe desperately wanted a significant other. Boyfriend, girlfriend, somewhere-in-between-friend, it really didn’t matter to him. He was willing to hunt for one, and he thought he would probably ask Charlie for a list of potential people once he got to school.

They drove the rest of the way in silence, Gabriel wondering what would lay in store for him in the next few days. The new school year promised to be an eventful one.

XX

Gabriel met with Charlie and Jo in the hallway in front of the stairwell. They were laughing and talking with a tall boy with long brown hair. He was cute, Gabe thought. They waved at him to come over. “Gabriel!” Charlie hugged him. “This is Jo, you’ve heard of her, and this is Sam Winchester. He’s new, but he’s Jo’s family, so he gets automatic admission.” 

Sam smiled and shook his hand awkwardly. “Hey.”

Dear God, his eyes were gorgeous. They somehow were a blue-green color, but a sunburst of orange and brown became a sunflower in the center. He smiled and laughed at something Charlie said, and that made Gabe’s heart flutter wildly. 

Holy shit, Gabriel realized. I have a crush, he thought. And his crush was a tall freshman with hair so goddamn silky. “Gabe!” Charlie’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. That was when he realized he was staring. 

Damn it. “Yeah? Sorry, I was just thinking.” 

“What’s your first period?” Sam directed the question at him, and that made him question everything.

“Uh, Algebra II. You?” 

“I’ve got English. Second period?” 

“Latin.”

“Me too.” The bell rang, making Gabe jump a little. “See you then?” Gabe nodded. Charlie took a step and pulled him by the arm. 

“I’ve got Geometry, let’s go.” Charlie pulled him after her. Jo stifled a laugh and waved as he was dragged to class. 

“What the hell?” He protested.

“You’ve got no game, man. Little Sammy Winchester likes you, too.” Gabriel’s mouth dropped open in surprise. 

“Wha—”

“I’m never wrong, Gabe. Sit with us at lunch, I’ll help you out. He likes Harry Potter, you know?” No, he didn’t know. And now his mind was racing. “Listen. You’ve got one shot at this. I’d give you two to three weeks, then he’ll be head over heels for you. Just follow my exact instructions.” They turned into the Geometry room, Gabe’s heart thumping wildly. 

First period felt like it lasted a million years, Gabriel anxiously awaiting his English class. His dad used to teach Latin, but now it was taught by a new teacher: Ms. Mills. Chuck had retired after he had published his first book:  _ Supernatural _ , featuring two monster-hunting brothers named Jared and Jensen.

Finally, after a long two hours off waiting, the bell rang for second period. Gabe practically sprinted to Latin. He chose a seat near to the back of the class and waved Sam over when he came into the classroom. Sam slid into the chair next to him. Gabe pulled out a notebook and tore out a piece. Ms. Mills started talking about the units in this school year, and Gabe was scribbling a note to Sam.

Sam was paying attention to the teacher, so Gabe had to nudge his shoulder to get him to notice the note.  _ Hey, how are you?  _ Sam looked at it, swallowing. Was Charlie right? Did Sam like him?

The note slid back to him, Sam’s handwriting so smooth and pretty.  _ Hi. Good. Like your shirt _ . It was short and barely told Gabe anything. He decided that he may as well push it a little.  _ You like HP?  _

Again, Sam wrote a small message and passed it to Gabe.  _ Yes.  _

__ Jesus, this kid barely said anything.  _ Who’s your favorite character?  _

_ Harry. _

__ _ House? _

__ _ I’m a Ravenclaw. You? _

__ Finally, Sam had asked him a question. Gabe felt like dancing.  _ Slytherin. I promise I won’t kill you.  _ He had meant it as a joke, but Sam looked thoroughly alarmed by the sentence. 

_ Ok.  _

__ _ You going to sit with Charlie and Jo at lunch?  _ He wrote. Sam looked at the note and nodded. “Sit with us?” Sam whispered. 

“Sure. I’d love to,” he replied. His heart felt like it was pushing against his ribcage, hammering wildly. Ms. Mills walked to the back table where Gabe and Sam sat. 

“Boys? Anything you want to share with the class?” She was a nice woman, Gabriel knew, but she was first and foremost a fair teacher. Sam shook his head. 

“No ma’am.” 

For the first time in his life, Gabriel had a big, serious, honest-to-God crush. And his crush was Sam Winchester.


	3. Night Moves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently watched the “Baby” episode so there are a lot of references to that here. Also, sorry for the short chapter, I promise the next one will be long and juicy. 
> 
> Carry on my wayward children: enjoy!

    The waitress at the diner was cute. She had dark brown hair and the same color eyes, and her name tag read _Lisa._ He sipped some two buck cup of coffee that tasted like a bitter cup of brown water. He scribbled down a few notes on molecular fission in his already-falling-apart notebook.

    Sam had decided to head home with Jo and do homework there, but Dean preferred to get some food and work alone. Lisa walked back over to his table with a burger on the plate. “Thought you might be hungry,” she set the white dish next to him.

    “Thanks,” Dean replied. He took a bite of the burger and moaned at the delicious taste. “I’m Dean.”

    “Lisa,” she replied. “But I guess you knew that.” She gestured to her name tag.

    “Yeah,” Dean laughed. “Nice to meet you.” Lisa slid onto the booth, pulling her dark hair out of her ponytail.

    “My shift just ended, thought we could talk. You’re new to town.”

    “Yeah, me and my brother just moved here.” He waved at his food. “And your shift’s over?”

    “It’s on me. Just graduated from the same high school I guess you’re at. All I can do is waitress these crap hours.” She shrugged and took one of his fries.

    “You’re what? Nineteen?”

    “Eighteen. My parents and I moved here from Texas, I ended up skipping a grade,” she said. She looked older, but in a really beautiful way.

    “Nice. I’m originally from Lawrence. Me and Sam move around a lot.” The comment earned a questioning glance from Lisa.

    “You’re not eighteen, are you?”

    “No, seventeen. I’ll turn eighteen in January. My dad lives with us.”

    “Oh, okay.” She looked at what he was doing. “Come on, you can do that later.”

    Dean raised his eyebrows, but stuffed his notebook back in his bag. She smiled at him and leaned forward on her elbows.

    “Tell me about yourself, Dean.”

    “What do you want to know?”

    “Let’s try full name.”

    “Dean Winchester.”

    “Lisa Braeden. You mentioned a brother?” Thin ice, he was on such thin fucking ice. But damn it if she wasn’t cute as hell.

    “Sam. He’s four years younger than me.”

    “Only child. What about you mom? You never mentioned her.”

    “Died when I was young. House fire, but Dad always thought it must have been arson.” Lisa looked uncomfortable as soon as Dean brought up Mary.

    “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

    “Don’t be. I was four back then. I can hardly remember her face.” Lie. He remembered every inch of her face as it had looked the day she died. Dean’s phone dinged.

    _Text from: Sammy_

_Message: Pick me up? We r done. At Bobby’s._

_Sent: 9:36_

“Sorry, Lisa, I’ve got to go.” He stood and slid her the remaining burger. “Duty calls.”

    She grabbed a napkin and scribbled down her number. Dean made a mental note to call her later. “Talk later?” When he took the napkin from her, their hands lingered on each other’s a moment longer than they should have.

    As Dean pulled out of the parking lot, he took a last glance into the diner, and Lisa waved at him through the glass.

    He waved back.

    XX

    Dean picked up Sam from the auto shop at ten, when the sun was well below the horizon and the roads were dark. Charlie had joined them, at the behest of Jo, and the two ended up spending the night at the auto shop .

    Sam quickly fell asleep in the passenger seat as they drove. It made Dean smile, seeing his brother so calm and peaceful. The engine of the Impala rumbled on through the night, the roads open and John-free.

    The motel was less so.

    John was slouched on a leather armchair with six empty bottles of beer scattered around him. He looked half asleep, and he was mumbling something about Dean and Sam’s mom. He didn’t seem to notice Dean lean down and whisper to Sammy to go to bed.

    He certainly noticed when Dean opened the refrigerator and fill a glass of water. “Dean!” He yelled. Dean barely jumped, although he was startled.

    “What?” He snapped back at his dad.

    “The fuck you think you doin’?” John asked, his words slurring.

    “Getting water.”

    “Why the hell you boys home so late?” He stood up and stumbled over to Dean. Dean was slightly taller than his dad, but after a day of drinking and sitting, John was slouched enough that Dean stood a head taller than him.

    “I was over at a friend’s.” Dean knew by now to never bring his little brother into this. Any mention of Sammy would make him the target of John’s abuses, instead of Dean.

    “You left your brother at school?”

    “No, he came with.” Admitting that he left Sam unattended would earn him a punch in the gut.

    “Stupid boy.” He sent a punch flying at Dean’s face, hitting him on the cheek. Dean stumbled back and caught himself on the counter, his back slamming against the corner. “Taking Sam wit—“ He moved a step forward and swayed on his feet. Shit, Dean thought. He’s going to pass out.

    John crumpled to the floor, head hitting his arm as he fell against the linoleum. “Shit.” He dragged his father to the couch and layed him down on his side.

    He didn’t bother to undress as he collapsed onto his bed, the light already off. In the dark, his mind wandered to Lisa, and Cas, and how he wanted to call both of them equally. Dean never considered himself gay, he never really wanted to date a guy before. Yet here he was, thinking about Cas.

    But, he thought, he was also thinking about Lisa. What does that make him? Bi, like Jo?

    “Dean?” Sam whispered. Dean rolled over and looked at his brother.

    “What’s up?”

    “Are you okay?”

    Not really. His face throbbed and he felt one of his teeth getting a little loose. “Yeah. Don’t worry about me, Sammy.”

    “I do, Dean. You’ve got to let me help you, protect you,” Sam protested. “Come on.”

    “It’s my job to keep you safe. That sometimes involves letting me take a punch so that you don't have to. I need you to promise me something, okay?” Sam nodded. “Don’t ever get in between me and Dad. Even if I’m bleeding out and dying, you stay the hell away from him.”

    “If you’re dying—”

    “You let me fucking die.” Sam said nothing, but just turned over to face the wall. “Promise me, Sam.”

    “I promise,” he said in a low voice. “Night, jerk.”

    “Night, bitch.”

    He opened his eyes and he was in the Impala, hands on the wheel and Eye of the Tiger blasting out of the stereo. John sat next to him, sober and smiling as they drove. Sam was sitting in the back seat. “Let me go! One time, come on!” They all were smiling and laughing.

    “After this. I need to get my permit,” Dean said. He was younger, only sixteen. Sammy was twelve. And this was a dream.

    He pulled into the driveway, the driveway of their house, and there was Mary, waving at them and yelling to get inside before the Winchester Surprise meal got cold. “Well done, Dean.” John said, patting Dean on the shoulder. “Take them.”

    The keys to the Impala dangled from his hand, clinking merrily. “The Impala?”

    “You’ve earned it. I’m proud of you.”

    He never wanted to wake up.


	4. Thunderstruck

Gabe waited impatiently by his door. It had been a few weeks since he had met Sam Winchester, and he had finally gotten him to accept an invitation. Gabe had invited Sam to come over to his house and work on homework, maybe even sleep over. It was a Friday, so Luci was over at Michaels and Cassie was at the nearest Starbucks. Only Chuck and Gabe were home, and Chuck was holed up in his room, trying to finish the last book in his series,  _ Swan Song. _

It was exactly 4:00 when a knock sounded on the door. Gabriel practically sprinted to the door and flung it open. “Hey, Sam!” He greeted his friend. “Come on in.” The tall boy stepped inside and looked around. “Not what you expected?” Gabe asked.

“I guess I thought it would be louder,” Sam replied. 

“Luci and Cas are out, so it’s just Dad and I. He’s in his office right now, though, so we have the whole house to ourselves.” He walked over to the kitchen and pulled out a chair at the table. “Want something to eat?” He offered as Sam sat down.

“Sure. What do you have?” Sam had grown a lot less shy as they had talked more and more. Gabe had grown fond of their almost one-sided conversations about fandoms, with his opinions spilling out and Sam inserting his opinion when needed.

“Mainly candy, but if you eat healthy food, we have some sandwiches and such. Cas has an obsession with honey, so we’ve got that, too,” Cas’ honey fascination was a little unnerving, but endearing nonetheless. 

“Candy works,” Sam said with a little smile. Gabe picked up the large glass jar on the counter and set it on the table. It was filled to the brim with assorted candies: lollipops, gummies, chocolates, the works. Sam fished out a handful of sweets and started eating. 

Gabe pretended to do homework on his computer as he watched Sam focus over his math. He kept glancing at the tall boy out of the corner of his eye. “Stop watching me,” Sam said, a smile forming on his lips. 

“No can do, Sam,” Game replied, smiling as well. 

“We can do homework later,” Sam decided, shoving his folders back into his backpack. “You have any movies?” 

Finally, Gabe thought. Time to hang out with the Winchester. “Tons. Got any in mind?”

He ran his fingers through his long hair. “Which Harry Potter movies do you have?”

“All of them. Fifth is my favorite,” Gabe said. 

“Let’s do that.” He and Gabe collapsed on the grey couch. Sam set the jar of candy between them as Gabriel turned on the television and played the movie. They both laughed as Sam began to hum the theme. Once the air conditioning kicked in, Sam curled into a ball for warmth. 

Gabriel decided to do something. He paused the movie, much to Sam’s dismay. “Give me a second.” He sprinted up the stairs, heart pounding, and grabbed a soft blanket and three fuzzy pillows from Cas’ room. After his arms were stuffed with pillows and blankets, he ran back down the stairs, almost tripping on the dragging fabrics. “Take some,” he offered to Sam. 

Sam took a blanket and a couple of Cas’ pillows, wrapping the blanket around himself. “Thanks.” 

Then he leaned against Gabriel.

Oh God, oh God, oh God. Gabe felt his heart skip at least ten beats. Sam must have felt Gabe’s erratic heartbeat and looked at him. “What? You’re warm.” That made Gabe laugh, but it was a little forced. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just— you’re really cute.” Gabe’s head went into lockdown. Shit, he had just called Sam cute. Shit, shit, shit.

Maybe this is what Charlie called a Gay Panic. Well, a Pan Panic in Gabe’s case. A ‘Pan’ic. Sam didn’t even know that Gabe was pan, what was he thinking?

Holy shit, now Sam was smiling and laughing. “Thanks.”

“You don’t think it’s weird that I just called you cute?” Stop talking, Gabe. Stop. Talking.

“Hey, a compliment is a compliment.” He swallowed. “Do you like boys?” 

There it was. That eternal question that always popped up. Well, time to jump off the cliff of safety. “Yeah.”

“Are you bi?”

“Pan.” Deep breaths, Gabe. 

“Okay.” That’s it? Gabe didn’t know whether to feel relieved or worried.

“That’s all?” 

“What do you want me to say? I’m glad you at least felt comfortable enough to tell me.” Gabe let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“If you don’t mind my asking…” Gabe wrung his hands. “Do you? Like boys?” Well, there he goes. Gabe slowly realized that he had basically just inferred that he liked Sam. Which he did. But he didn’t really want to tell him that.

“I don’t know. I guess I just never really thought about it—”

Lucifer Novak was not known for his good timing. He was known for his bad timing. He would constantly barge in when the time was absolutely worst, and annoy the crap out of his brothers because of it. Michael was a little better, at least being able to recognize when his boyfriend had barged into an awkward situation.

Too bad for Gabriel that his brother came through the door at that moment. “Look who’s home!” He exclaimed. “You must be Sam Winchester! I’m Lucifer, nice to meet you.” Michael followed awkwardly. 

“Sorry,” he said to Gabe and Sam. “Come on, Luce. Let’s go upstairs.” He took his boyfriend’s hand and dragged him up the stairs, casting another apologetic look over his shoulder. 

“That’s your brother?” Sam changed the subject. Gabe couldn’t say he wasn’t relieved.

“Yeah, and the other guy’s Michael. He’s Luci’s boyfriend.” 

“Huh,” Sam only said. He reached over Gabe and grabbed the remote. In the process, his arm brushed against Gabe’s chest. They both repositioned themselves awkwardly, then Sam turned the movie back on. 

No matter how interesting the movie was, Gabe couldn’t get back into it.

After they finished the seventh movie (part one), Cas came back home. His entrance was significantly quieter than Luci’s, and he looked tired. He said a quick hello to Gabe and Sam.

“I’m Sam Winchester,” Sam introduced himself. Cas started a little, then quickened his step, head down. It occured to Gabe that, since the first day back at school, Cas had been a little out-of-it, staring off into space or smiling at random moments. After a moment, Cas came back down to the living room, hair newly tousled and a grey sweatshirt on. “Mind if I watch with you both?” 

Both Sam and Gabriel said that, no, they didn’t mind, and Cas sat down next to Gabe. Once they started the last movie, all of them went silent, enraptured by the magic of the movie. At the moment where Harry used the resurrection stone, Cas turned to Gabe and Sam. “Do you think they could exist? Ghosts? Like the ones in Dad’s books or here?” 

Gabe shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe.” 

Sam, on the other hand, looked ecstatic. “There have been so many accounts of apparitions that I don’t know how ghosts couldn’t exist,” he began, barely pausing for breath. “I’ve always wondered what a ghost would be like, whether they are like the ghosts in Carver Edlund’s  _ Supernatural,  _ or silent apparitions like in all the haunted mansions around the world.” Both Gabe and Cas laughed out loud. “What?”

“Carver Edlund?” Gabe asked, still laughing.

“What about him? He writes good books!” Sam defended the author. 

“No, you’re right. It’s just, Carver Edlund is a pen-name,” Cas explained, holding back giggles. “His real name is Chuck Shurley.”

“He’s our dad,” Gabriel clarified.

Sam’s jaw dropped.

“Can I meet him?” He asked breathlessly. “Carver— Chuck?” 

“Sure thing,” Gabe said. “DAD!” He shouted. He heard an unintelligible string of words, followed by: “WHAT?”

“CAN YOU COME HERE PLEASE?” Cas shouted, using the politeness that Gabe lacked. Chuck thumped down the stairs, still in his robe with a coffee in hand. 

“What’s up?” He asked his sons. Gabe wasn’t even sure Sam was breathing.

“Sam’s a fan of  _ Supernatural _ ,” Gabe explained. Sam waved awkwardly. 

“Hi, Mr. Edlu— Shurley. I, uh, I’ve read all your books. They’re amazing,” he stammered.

“Enough formality, call me Chuck. I’m glad you like it, I never really meet any fans. It’s kind of a cultish following, if you know what I mean,” Chuck laughed. It was true. The fans of  _ Supernatural  _ were very devoted to the series. 

“Chuck, then. I have a couple questions, though. How did you think of the names Jared and Jensen for the brother’s names? And why did Jared think it was a good idea to be in a relationship with the demon Genevieve?” Sam asked, transforming into full-geek mode. 

“I guess Jared and Jensen just fit what I thought the brothers should be, name and personality-wise. As for Gen, I think Jared’s relationship with her went further into the instability with his character and showed how he was still messed up after Adrianne’s death.” Chuck explained. Gabe rolled his eyes. He wanted to call it off, but Sam looked so happy talking with his dad.

And, not the first time for that night, Gabe was just content to watch Sam smile and be happy.


	5. Road to Nowhere

Dean was glad that Sam had found some friends. Well, glad and sad. Knowing John, they would leave in the next month. As he pulled into their driveway, their two-story white house looked like something out of a story. Perfect garden, colorful blue door, curtains swinging merrily in the windows. It was the white-picket-fence life that Dean always wanted for Sammy. 

He pulled out his phone and texted his brother.

_ Text to: Sammy _

_ Message: I’m outside.  _

_ Sent: 10:14 _

He waited a couple minutes, tapping his foot to the beat of his music. When he got no reply, he sighed and opened the door. Walking up the path, Dean noticed how green the grass was. Damn it, this looked like it was handcrafted by God or something. 

He rapped on the door three times and stepped back. A boy with dirty blonde hair answered, probably only 5 foot 4. “Is Sam here?” He asked.

Sammy’s head popped into view. “Hey, Dean.” 

Dean felt himself release a breath of relief. “Ready to head out? It’s getting late.” 

“Yeah, just give me a moment to grab my stuff.” He disappeared into what Dean assumed to be the kitchen. 

Gabriel moved to the side. “Come on in while you wait.” Dean smiled his thanks and stepped inside, looking around. To his left was their living room, one of the Harry Potter movies queued up. Farther back into the house was the kitchen, directly behind the living space. Ahead of Dean was an open staircase, and a pair of closed double doors were two his right. 

As Sam stuffed the last of his stuff into his bag, an older boy made his way down the stairs. He had his hair ruffled to one side like he had been laying down or something, and he had on an oversized shirt that had the title of Sam’s favorite book series,  _ Supernatural _ . It was nice that they liked the same things Sammy did. 

It was only when the boy looked up did Dean recognize those striking blue eyes and dark brown hair. “Cas,” he breathed. 

Cas stood, stock still, at the base of the stairs. “Hello, Dean.” Then, everything clicked into place. He had two brothers, Gabriel and Lucifer. Gabriel. Like Sam’s Gabriel. And he was in Cas’ house. And his little brother was friends with Gabriel. 

Holy shit. Small world. 

“I, uh, didn’t know you lived here,” Dean said awkwardly, struck by the oddness of the situation. And his enchantment about Cas’ deep blue eyes that looked like the sky plucked away and gently placed into his eyes. Then, suddenly, Dean wondered what it would be like to stare into those eyes as he kissed Cas. 

The thought shocked Dean enough that he was pulled back into reality. Cas was saying something about how he didn’t realize Sam was his brother until he mentioned his last name, but Dean was searching inside himself for the origin of that cursed thought. “Dean? Are you alright?”

“Oh, um, yeah, I’m good. Sorry, just got lost in thought for a second.” He quickly looked over at the television. The movie still had an hour left on the timer. “They’ve still got time to finish their movie,” Dean began, looking back at Cas. “Want to head to a cafe or something? Work on the Government project that Ms. MacLeod assigned?” 

Cas shrugged. “I already finished, but I can give you some help if you want. I need to finish my Theology homework anyway.” Dean felt his heart skip a beat. “Let’s do it.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” He looked over at Sam. “Sammy? I’m going to get some work done with Cas, you go ahead and finish your movie. Text me when you’re done, got it?” Sam’s face lit up and he grinned. 

“Got it.” He gave Dean a pair of thumbs-up and leaped onto the couch with Gabriel. The boy snickered and whispered something to Sam, who broke out into muffled laughter. 

“We can take my car,” Dean offered. “It’s running out front.”

“Let me just grab my stuff, then we can go.” Cas turned and ran back up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The movie resumed in the background, drowning out the whispers of the two boys. Dean smiled for a moment, then Cas came rushing back down the stairs with a backpack slung over one shoulder. ”Ready?”

“Ready.” Dean helped him throw his stuff into the backseat of the car, then they were on their way. “Want to listen to any music?” He asked as they drove. Cas shrugged.

“Sure.” He flipped on his music, halfway through Aerosmith’s “Dream On” and Cas smiled. “You like rock?” He asked Dean.

“Yeah. I heard it a lot as a kid before—” Before Mary had died. After that, John barely ever listened to the music that Mary and he had loved so much. Their motels were reigned by silence. “I found some of my mom’s old tapes and CDs in the trunk and just listen to them when I drive.” 

Cas seemed to realize that he had encroached on something personal and tried to backtrack. “You said you were born here in Kansas?” 

“Yeah, Lawrence.” Dean suddenly remembered his rule number one. Don’t get attached to anyone. Yet he was slowly getting to know this angel-boy, and he realized that he didn’t want to leave. 

They drove the rest of the way in silence. When they pulled into the parking lot of the almost-empty diner where Lisa worked, they grabbed their bags and got out of the Impala. “I like your car, by the way,” Cas said 

Dean cast an involuntary glance over his beloved car. “Thanks.” He thought about John and how happy Dean was when his dad had given him the car. Somehow, Dean still wasn’t sure whether or not John had thrown him the keys in a drunken decision, or if he had been stone-cold sober and actually cared about his sons for once. 

Lisa greeted them when they went inside, giving Dean a smile as they walked in. “Booth or chairs?” She asked. 

“Booth,” Cas replied. Dean and Cas sat down at the booth and started on Cas’ Theology homework. Mr. Metatron had assigned them a reading and a set of questions to answer. Cas looked at his questions and squinted at the question. “Who is Naomi again?” 

Dean knew the answer immediately. “Ruth’s mother.” He and Sam were both almost fluent in the Bible. When they moved around, they would almost always stay in a motel. In the motels, there was only one consistent reading material: the Bible. 

“Oh, yeah, right,” Cas said quickly, almost worriedly. Lisa walked to their table with two coffees. 

“What can I get you two?” 

“Nothing for me,” Dean said, casting her a sidelong glance. He searched her long and silky brown hair, trying to figure out what he found attractive about her last time he was here. But even when he looked at her, it always seemed to be Cas staring back at him. “Cas?”  

“I’ll just have a burger. Thanks.” Lisa nodded and walked away. “Dean, you were staring.”  _ Shit _ . 

“Crap, was I?” Maybe he had stared  _ because _ she looked a little like Cas. Maybe he  _ liked  _ staring at Cas. 

“You like her?”

“I— well, yeah, I guess.” He searched his mind for an excuse to change the subject. “Hey, why don’t you know the Bible better? Since you’re an angel, after all.” 

“I’m not an angel, I’m just named after one,” Cas replied.  _ Shit _ . Did he just call Cas an angel? 

“You’re not? You had me fooled,” Dean joked, but Cas just looked down at his homework and said nothing. God, what was he doing? 

“I can finish Theology later. How far have you gotten on your Government project?” Cas closed his binder and stuffed it into his bag. 

“Other than basic research on where and what the hell Kyrgyzstan is? Nothing.” Dean was known for procrastinating, something Sam chided him for relentlessly. 

“Here, I’ll help with the history if you can get the past leaders and government systems,” Cas offered, pulling out his laptop. Dean noticed the small pentagram sticker on the computer. 

“What’s that?” He asked, pointing to the sticker. 

“Oh, it’s just something from a book series my dad writes.  _ Supernatural _ .” That was the crap that Sam liked. 

“I thought they were written by a guy called Edlund?” 

“Pen name. Sam likes the series, right? He seemed pretty excited when Gabe let him meet Dad.” Damn it, Dean really should start reading the series. 

“Yeah, it was something in our old school’s library. We move around a lot, so he bought all them from the library and read them when we were driving. I’m pretty sure he’s memorized most of them,” Dean chuckled a little. Sam was always so excited to read  _ Supernatural _ . He would cry when someone died, giggle when something funny happened, like that one called  _ Bad Day at Black Rock _ . 

“That’s nice. Maybe I could get Dad to give him some signed copies.” 

“He would love that.” Maybe he could give him a decent Christmas present for once. Not any of the shit gifts that John wrapped in newspaper and put in front of the fireplace. 

If they stayed in this small Kansas town through then.

If he didn’t have to leave Cas for another four months.


	6. Who Do You Love

Cas sat cross-legged on the foot of Gabe’s bed, chin resting on his hands. Gabriel was leaning against his headboard, his computer sitting on his lap and playing an episode of  _ Sherlock.  _ It was one of Gabe’s favorites, “The Reichenbach Fall.” 

Cas was flipping through his book,  _ The Odyssey.  _ His forehead was creased and he seemed to be focusing on anything and everything other than a Greek epic. Gabe sighed and shut his computer, the sound shutting off with a light click. “What’re you thinking?” Cassie looked up. 

“What do you mean?” 

He shrugged. “You know. You’re not paying attention to your book and you’re sure as Hell not listening to Sherlock and John deny their undying love for each other. So what’re you thinking?” 

“Promise you won’t make fun of me?” Cas asked, making a small smile.

“Promise.” 

“I think I have a crush on Dean. Sam’s brother,” he admitted. 

“Oh, shit,” Gabe blurted. That was certainly not what he expected to hear. “Dean?!” 

Cas grumbled something under his breath. “Come on, you said you wouldn’t make fun of me.” 

Gabriel held up his hands defensively. “Hey, not making fun of you. Just… how long have you had a crush on him?” He said nothing, just shrugged again. “Cassie!” he whined.

“Since the beginning of school.” 

That was it, then. The reason behind Cas’ weird behavior and his random mood swings. It was all Dean. And Gabe was crushing on his brother. “No fucking way.” 

“Gabe, language,” Cas said half-heartedly. “Why do you care so much, anyway?” No. No way he was telling Cas how he felt about Sam. No way in Hell. No way times a million. No. Way. Cas didn’t need his brother to tell him, though. Slowly, his blue eyes had a cloud of realization flow over them. “You like Sam.”

“No!” Gabe said way too quickly. “No, no, no I don’t, no.” He forced a laugh. “Sam? No way, he’s just a friend.”  

“Huh, just a friend? Seriously, Gabriel, I know you better than that. Even though Luce can’t, I can definitely tell when you’re lying. So? How long have you been crushing on little Winchester?” 

“Nuh uh, you don’t get to ‘little Winchester’ him. You’re the one crushing on his brother.” Cas just raised an expectant eyebrow. “Fine. Since day one.” 

“We’re hopeless,” Cas said with a half-smile. 

“Amen,” Gabe replied. “So, how are we getting you together with big brother Dean?” 

“No you don’t. I don’t need my brother to set me up on a date.” This time, it was Gabe’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “No way.”

“Please, Cassie?” Gabe pleaded. He desperately wanted to set his brother up with  _ someone _ . 

“Fine. One try, you get one try, then you’re done. Got it?” Gabe made a pouting face. “Damn it, Gabe! Fine, fine. Do whatever you want, just don’t embarrass me.” 

“YES!” Gabriel shrieked. “Okay, here’s the plan: I invite Sam over, giving Dean no choice but to drive him over.”

“What about their Dad? He could drop Sam off.” Gabe shook his head.

“I’ve never seen him. He’s either got a job 24/7 or he just doesn’t care. My grapevine has never caught a glimpse of him, ever. Dean’s always the one by Sam, and he rarely lets him out of his sight. Anyway, Dean and Sam come over, and Sam and I do something that Dean gets some kind of interest in. What stuff does he like?”

“I don’t really know. Rock music, I guess. And I think I saw a pie sticker on his computer, so pie. Horror movies, too.” 

“Not that much to work with. I’ll notify Charlie, Jo, Kev, and Garth. See what they know. Next, we get Dean to stay over and hang out with us. Then, Sam and I switch to something he doesn’t like. Harry Potter or something. Once he loses interest, you’ll swoop in and take him upstairs to do homework or video games or something. It’s all up to you, then. Afterwards, he’ll hopefully have enough fun to keep coming over or something.” 

“I noticed you omitted your time with Sam,” Cas said with a wink and a smirk. “Come on, I know you like him.”

“Shut up,” Gabe mumbled. “I don’t like him, and I certainly don’t need you pestering me about it.” Cas gave a little knowing smile.

“’kay, Gabe.” He quickly found a way to switch the subject back. “How do I know if he even likes guys?” 

“Use your gaydar, brother mine,” Gabe said cryptically, using a Sherlockian word for ‘dearest brother.’ It was probably just his subconcious telling him to wach more  _ Sherlock _ . 

“Come on, that’s just a joke. No one really has a gaydar.” 

“Charlie does. She’s never wrong. I can text her if you want.” 

“Fine. Just don’t tell her I like him, okay?”

“No promises.”

_ Text to: Charlie _

_ Message: Hey, is Dean gay? _

_ Sent: 11:23 _

_ Text from: Charlie _

_ Message: Why? Crushing on the big brother now?  _

_ Sent: 11:24 _

_ Text to: Charlie _

_ Message: Nah, it’s Cas. So? _

_ Sent: 11:25 _

_ Text from: Charlie _

_ Message: I see. I’m over at Jo’s right now, so is Double Trouble. Let you know. _

_ Sent: 11:25 _

_ Text to: Charlie _

_ Message: Double Trouble? And thanks. _

_ Sent: 11:27 _

_ Text from: Charlie _

_ Message: It’s no fun without codenames. Commencing Operation Owl _

_ Sent: 11:28 _

 

_ Text from: Charlie _

_ Message: Okay: Dean’s bi, has the hots for our dear little Cassie. _

_ Sent: 11:28 _

_ Text to: Charlie _

_ Message: You sure? Cas will be pissed if you’re wrong. _

_ Sent: 11:29 _

_ Text from: Charlie _

_ Message: Trust me…………. ;) _

_ Sent: 11:30 _

_ Text to: Charlie _

_ Message: That’s a little unnerving. Thanks though. Cas says thanks too. _

_ Sent: 11:31 _

 

Gabe wasn’t even sure Cas was breathing. He had relayed the messages real-time, omitting the part where Charlie sent the ominous ‘trust me.’ “Listen up, Cas. This is valuable info. You see a shot, an opening, anything? You take it. You hear me? If you ever need me to bail you out, send a text. Anything. Gibberish, random word, anything. I’ll come up and do something.”

Cas nodded like an obedient dog. He swallowed twice, wringed his hands, and took a deep breath.

“Let’s go get you a boyfriend.”


	7. All Right Now

The text had come from out of nowhere, Sam said. Gabriel had just texted him and invited him over to hang out on Sunday. After checking with Dean, Sam replied that he would be there. Early Sunday morning, before John woke up, Dean took Sam out to the car and drove off, leaving no trace as to where they were headed. 

Halfway there, Dean stopped at a gas station to refill the Impala’s tanks. Sam looked wistfully at the extremely unhealthy Hostess treats. Sighing softly, Dean pulled out a five dollar bill and handed it to his brother. “Go get something for us to share.” Sammy’s face lit up and Dean smiled. Gabriel certainly helped Sam smile easier. When they were in Charleston, his brother had barely smiled once, being detached from everyone and everything except Dean. 

It was refreshing to see him happy. 

Sam emerged a minute later with the dense powdered sugar donuts in hand. Once the Impala was all juiced up, they drove away and towards the Novak house. Sam leaned in and pushed in a CD. Moments later, a song started playing. Dean laughed at his brother’s song choice. “Guns N’ Roses? C’mon Sammy, you can do better than that!” 

In response, Sam began to belt the lyrics, grinning from ear to ear. “ _ WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE!”  _ he sang. Dean joined in. “ _ We’ll take it day by day!”  _

__ They opened the donuts and began to munch on them, powdered sugar spilling all over the seats. Their singing became a muffled garble of words, but they were still laughing and grinning. “Alright, that’s it. Bring out the Van Halen!” Dean decreed, mouth stuffed with donut. Sam pushed in another CD and music rang through the car. The familiar synth made Dean smile just hearing it. Sam mimed playing the drums as they came in, and Dean ‘played’ the keyboard with one hand. 

It was the first time in a while that they both felt so carefree. 

It was over all too soon. They were both panting and grinning goofily when they pulled up in front of the Novak’s house. Sam looked down at his phone as it dinged with a message, typed one back, and got out of the car. “Come on,” Sam said. 

“This is your thing, you’re a big kid, you can walk to the door fine on your own.” Sam sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Really? Come on,” he said again. “It’s not gonna kill you to go in and say hi.” 

“I think it will,” Dean muttered, but got out of the Impala nonetheless. He was trying his best to avoid Cas since he had the strange realization that he might have a crush on Cas. Guess it wasn’t working out too well. When Gabriel opened the door, Cas seemed to be out of sight, maybe even out of the house. Dean couldn’t say he wasn’t relieved.

“Hey, Sam!” Gabriel said. “Here, come on in.” He let them walk inside, and typed something into his phone discreetly. Sam cast a sideways glance to the stairs, and whispered a question to Gabriel, who nodded. 

“How about a Doctor Who marathon?” Sam suggested. “Tenth Doctor?” 

“David Tennant,” Gabriel commented, smiling. “Good choice. Want to watch, Dean?” 

Dean checked his watch. He shrugged. “I’ve got time, I guess.” Part of him was genuinely interested in the show. The other part was hoping Cas would show up. 

After ten minutes of the first episode, Dean was entirely confused. Even the endless explanations from Sam and Gabriel weren’t helping. With a small smile, Gabriel typed another thing on his phone.

A moment later, and Dean thought that Gabriel might have had something to do with it, Cas walked down the stairs.

He looked… different. His hair was still messy and his eyes still had that laughing spark to them, but he wore a plain white shirt that was tight fitting enough that Dean stared for a moment. He looked like those models who look like they had just woke up, but when in reality it took them an hour to get ready and made-up. 

“Cas,” Dean said a little breathlessly. He felt his cheeks flare up and let his head fall so that Cas couldn’t see. 

Cas glanced at the television and grimaced. “It’s hard to understand if you don’t watch from the beginning,” he commented. “Come on upstairs, we can hang for a bit.” Dean felt his heart stumble a step, and start beating again erratically. 

“I— uh, sure.” He followed Cas up the stairs and into a hallway with three door on one side and another on the far end. 

“That’s Gabe’s room, and that one over there is Luci’s. This one’s mine” He pointed to the middle door. It had silver wings painted on it. The youngest Novak had a Harry Potter symbol painted on it, some triangle with a circle and line. Lucifer had certainly taken his name to heart. His door had red and yellow flames with a black angel silhouette painted over it. Dean raised an eyebrow. “Luce’s out with Michael and Dad’s down in his office, so it’s just us up here.” He opened the winged door and let Dean in. 

Cas’ room looked like what Dean imagined Sam’s to be if they owned a house. A few posters were scattered around the walls, and there was a mess of books all over the floors and shelves. Dean recognised a few titles, but most of them were complete mysteries. There was a  window with white curtains and the walls were painted a light blue. “Welcome to my personal heaven,” Cas said, smirking. He crossed the room and grabbed his computer and what looked like an old fashioned projector. “I’ve got a screen for it in here, we can watch a movie or something.” 

“I-- that sounds good. What movie?” He couldn’t stop staring at Cas. Something about his made his eyes stick and never move. Cas looked at the stack of movies on his shelf and ran his fingers through his hair. Dean swallowed and shook his head quickly  _ Get it together, Winchester _ , he scolded himself.

“I’ve got mainly fantasy or sci-fi stuff. Classics like  _ Lord of the Rings _ ,  _ Star Wars _ , stuff like that.” 

“I’m good with either of those,” Dean replied, trying to not seem too high-maintenance.

    “How about Fellowship?” 

    “Let’s do that then.” He sat cross-legged on the floor and plugged a cable into his computer. The projector whirred to life and a picture faded in on the white screen. It was Cas’ desktop. It was a picture of the three Novak boys, Cas on Luci’s shoulders and Gabe next to them. Cas was holding a trophy of some sort. A woman stood next to them, hugging Cas. They looked years younger.

    “Who’s that?” Dean asked, pointing to the woman. 

    Cas clicked away from the image. “My mom,” he said curtly. Dean had a flash of a memory. John shoving baby Sammy into his arms. Yelling at him to run. Their house going up in flames. He paused. “Sorry, I know you lost your mom. It’s not fair for me to complain about mine.” 

    “No, sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” Cas seemed to notice the hanging curiosity still in the air. 

    “She left Dad four years ago. It was right after here, too.” He gestured vaguely to the picture. “I had just won a trophy at my old school. It wasn’t anything big, but we went out for ice cream after. Mom and Dad weren’t talking, so I asked if something was wrong. Then Mom just left. Luce had to explain to us what it meant for parents to get divorced, and how we would still see mom. We didn’t though. Every once in a while, I’ll send her a text, asking how she is or telling her about my day. She reads them, but never responds.” 

    Cas turned away and wiped his eyes with a hand. The way he seemed broken down about it all reminded of him having to talk to Sam about how their mom had left for good, and that the fire meant that she would never come back. 

    Without thinking, he crossed over to Cas and wrapped him in his arms. “I’m sorry about your mom,” he said softly. Cas’ breathing hitched a bit. Slowly realizing what he was doing, Dean let go and backed away. “Listen, Cas. If you ever need to talk or something, let me know.” 

    Cas smiled a sad smile. “Thanks. Same goes for you.” 

    His and Sam’s first rule echoed in his head.  _ Don’t get attached.  _ He saw in his mind having to leave. They could still stay in touch… With a silent curse, Dean replied. “That’s what friends are for, right?” He could have sworn that Cas looked a little disappointed. “You good?”

    “Yeah,” Cas nodded, seeming to do it more for himself than Dean. “Yeah, I’m alright.” 

    “Hey, Cas?” Dean swallowed. “I think I have a crush on you.”

    Cas looked up and smiled. A knowing smile, like he already knew. “Me too.” And he leaned in and kissed Dean on the lips. He lifted his hands and ran them through Dean’s hair. “I love you,” he whispered to Dean. “I love you, Dean--”

    “Dean?” Cas’ voice brought him back to reality. How long had he been daydreaming? A moment later, his mind caught up with his panicking heart. How long had he been daydreaming  _ about kissing Cas? _ “Dean, are you alright?” 

    “Yeah, sorry, just zoned out for a second. What were you saying?” 

    “Just that I’m going to grab some food from downstairs, you want anything?” Dean could feel his face flush rapidly. What was it about Cas that was so infatuating to him? 

    Looking away, he answered. “I’ll just take a glass of water, if that’s okay.” Cas nodded and left the room quickly. Alone in Cas’ room, Dean sat down on the bed and looked around. A quiet chime sounded and a message popped up on Cas’ computer.

_ Text from: Gabe _

_ Message: Dean’s down here. Time to shine. _

_ Sent: 5 minutes ago _

_ That explains what Gabriel was doing on his phone _ , Dean thought. He remembered Sam checking his phone in the car, then forcing him to get out. Curiosity reigning, Dean got up and clicked on the message. There were two others from Gabriel. One was from the day before.

_ Text from: Gabe _

_ Message: At Charlie’s. Grapevine says fantasy and sci-fi. I’ll invite Sam tomorrow. Ready? _

_ Sent: Yesterday _

Dean read the message with mild fascination. What did he mean by the Grapevine? Glancing towards the door, he scrolled through the chain to the next message. 

_ Text from: Gabe _

_ Message: Sam’s in on it. Big bro Dean is coming in, don’t make a fool of yourself. <3 _

_ Sent: 19 minutes ago. _

__ “Context, I need context,” Dean murmured to himself. He scrolled up a little more and found exactly what he was looking for. 

_ Text to: Gabe _

_ Message: Please don’t tell Sam I’m crushing on his brother, k? _

_ Sent: Two days ago _

Dean couldn’t breathe. He re-read the text, then again and again until he was sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “Holy shit,” he whispered. “Holy fucking shit.” Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Dean closed out of the tab abruptly. Less than a second later, Cas came in. “Hey, could you help with your computer? I was trying to get the movie on but I have no clue as to work this,” he said quickly, stumbling over the words. 

Cas smiled a little and it sent a shiver down Dean’s spine. “No problem, I got it.” He handed Dean a water glass and a box of cookies. “Just set them on the bed.” He leaned down and clicked several buttons. The movie popped up on the projector and he clicked ‘play.’ 

“Cas?” Dean asked slowly. “Are you gay?” Cas froze. Dean couldn’t blame him. Suddenly regretting his decision to talk, he backtracked wildly. “I mean, both of your brothers aren’t… straight, so I was just wondering,” he stammered. 

“I--” Dean’s phone rang. Loudly. He desperately wanted to mute it, but the contact on it made him think twice. “Go ahead,” Cas mumbled. 

Dean pressed the green answer button and lifted the phone with shaking hands.

“DEAN WINCHESTER! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?” 

He swallowed. Once. Twice. 

“Hey to you too, Dad.”


	8. Don't Fear The Reaper

There was a crash from upstairs. Both Sam’s and Gabe’s heads shot up at the sound, Sam’s eyes filled with panic. Dean came barrelling down the stairs, phone in hand and eyes wild. “Get in the car, Sammy,” he snapped and looked to Gabe. “We have to go. See you later.” 

Gabe looked to Sam with a question. Sam sat, frozen, staring off into the distance. “What--” he asked, but was cut off by Cas. 

“Dean, what’s wrong?” The concern was evident in his voice. 

Dean ignored him. “Sam.  _ Let’s go _ .” Understanding dawned in Sam’s eyes and he backed up a step.

“Dean, no, you know how he gets when he’s like this,” Sam pleaded, voice cracking. 

“And you know how he gets if we don’t listen to him!” Dean snapped back. “If you’re not with me, he’ll be pissed, then we’re both screwed.”

“Sam, what’s going on?” Gabe asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice. Sam said nothing and kept looking at Dean with wide and terrified eyes. It felt like someone had taken an apple corer to his heart and was trying to drill a hole into it. “Sam?!” 

He looked up and his eyes cleared. “It’s our dad,” he said, strongly and clearly. Dean’s eyes widened. 

“Sam,” he said warningly. 

“Come on Dean! We can’t live like this forever!” Sam said, voice bordering on yelling. Dean almost flinched. 

“Only until I turn eighteen, Sam. That’s all,” he replied, calmly yet still wild. “Come on. We need to go.”

“No, Dean! Don’t you get it?” Sam yelled. “I can’t stand by anymore while he—” He cut off abruptly as he seemed to remember that Cas and Gabe were there. 

“Sam, that’s enough. Get in the car.” He looked to Cas and Gabe and gave a sarcastic smile. “Thank you for your hospitality, we’ll be going now.” He grabbed Sam’s wrist and pulled him to the door.

Finally, Cas found his voice once more. “What the hell, Dean?” Gabriel felt oddly inclined to echo the sentiment. “You’re just going to leave?” 

“I’m with Cas on this one,” Gabe pitched in. “Whatever’s going on, you should tell us. If you’re just going to run off, we deserve to know what’s going on.” 

“No, you don’t,” Dean said coldly. Sam shook his arm out of Dean’s grip and went to stand by Gabe. Gabriel had half a mind to put his arm out in front of the youngest Winchester and pull him behind him. 

“Dean. I’m not going. Either you tell them or I will.” Dean shook his head warningly. 

“If we don’t get back soon, he’ll go looking,” he said cryptically. 

“He’s too damned drunk to see straight, how the hell do you think he’s going to even make it to a car?” Sam shouted. “I’m tired of letting him hit you every time he goddamn feels like it. I’m tired of you standing in front of me every time! Have you ever showed him your scars?” This time, Dean flinched. Flinched at the tears streaming down Sam’s face. Gabe wasn’t sure whether anyone in the room was even breathing. Silence reigned. “I won’t let you leave. I won’t let you go back there,” Sam said softly, voice cracking as if it took extreme effort to even say the words. 

“Dean,” Cas said. “What does he mean?” It seemed clear enough to Gabe. He just couldn’t believe it. 

Dean said nothing. With a defeated sigh, he pulled off his shirt and turned around. His back was littered with scars, crisscrossing over each other like a maze of white roads. Some looked newer than others, the skin around them still pink. The white lines and bumps along his skin stood out starkly against his skin. The scars reached up to the base of his neck and stretched all the way to his shoulders and even a little down his arms. Cas let out a little gasp. Even Sam looked shocked as if this was the first time he had ever seen his brother’s scars like this.

”Your dad did this?” Cas breathed, moving closer to get a better look at the scars. His face had gone ghostly white. Dean looked reluctant to answer. Gabe wondered if he would have if it was anyone other than Cas asking.

“Yeah. Old beer bottles, belts, fists, books, whatever he can get his hands on. He’s drunk most of the time, though.”  _ Most of the time _ . Like there were times where he wasn’t drunk and still hit his son. 

Gabe wondered if Sam had similar scars, but something about Dean made him believe that he would take the pain to not let his brother get hit. Gabe and Cas would do the same for each other. “Stay the night,” Gabe blurted. He didn’t want Sam to go back there, nor Dean, if only for Cas’ sake. 

“I— we can’t—” Dean started to say, but then he looked at Sam. Gabe guessed what he would be thinking. How he couldn’t go back there with his brother, he had to protect him. “If it isn’t too much trouble.”

“It’s not,” Cas said, face still white. Unlike he could with Dean, Gabe couldn’t even begin to guess what Cas was thinking, what was racing through his mind. “Not at all.” 

Gabe’s and Cas’ dad took that moment to emerge from his office. He took one look at Dean’s back and looked to Cas. “They’re staying the night,” Cas supplied. 

Chuck looked back to Dean’s back, the scars riddled along his spine, and nodded slowly. “I think that would be best. They’re always welcome to stay over whenever.” Gabe silently thanked his father’s observant nature, likely coming from his long writing career. “Do you boys need any food? I can make anything if you’re hungry.”  _ He’s worried they don’t eat much, either _ , Gabe thought. He was shocked he didn’t think of it himself. 

“That would be nice,” Sam answered for Dean. “Thanks.” Gabriel looked at Dean, but he didn’t seem to be paying attention. Cas seemed to be trapped in his gaze, their eyes locked. Slowly, deliberately, Dean tugged his short-sleeved shirt back on, and it hit Gabe how tight it was. He shrugged on his brown leather jacket and looked away, muttering something under his breath. 

Chuck seemed to note the tension between his son and Dean and quietly retreated to the kitchen to prepare some food. “Sam, you can sleep in my room, if you want,” Gabe offered. Sam was watching Dean and Cas with mild interest and nodded. Cas whispered something to Dean and then walked over to Gabe and Sam. 

“Mind if Dean and I watch a movie with you?” Sam and Gabriel exchanged a quick glance and nodded. 

“He likes  _ Star Wars _ ,” Sam said, nodding to Dean. He seemed to be frozen in time, staring down at the ground. Cas glanced nervously at Dean. He looked to Gabe in question.  _ Did you tell him about Dean and me? _

“I told him,” Gabe replied. 

“He asked if I was gay,” Cas muttered. “I couldn’t answer, but I think he likes me back.” 

Sam backed out of the conversation. “I’ll set up the movie.” Gabe sighed and rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Go over there now. Look in his eyes and tell him that you have a crush on him. Or I swear to God I will. Don’t you see his face? He needs someone to hold onto, he needs a rock,” Gabe said. He thought about Sam. He thought that Sam might need a rock. Maybe, eventually, Gabe would tell Sam how he felt. “Go.” 

Cas swallowed and nodded. “Yeah,” he said as if convincing himself. “Yeah.”

Then he walked over to Dean.


	9. No One Like You

He felt so goddamned empty. Sam’s voice had cut though everything: the terror, the horror, every fucking thing he felt in that moment when he showed them all his scars. Cas had been crushed to see them, Dean knew. Crushed to know that he was treated like that. In a way, it had made Dean look at himself again and wonder if putting himself in between Sam and John was really what he wanted.

Of course it wasn’t what he wanted, he told himself. But that’s what he needed to do, and even how he might or might not feel about Cas could change that. 

Yet, there was now a little nagging creature telling him that he had more to live for now. 

Dean didn’t know how long he stood and stared at the ground. Remembering the agony each scar came with. And pushing the memory down so deep that it disappeared. 

He only realized he was standing still as a statue when a hand rested on his shoulder and gripped it tight. At first, he thought it was Sam. 

It wasn’t. Because Sam didn’t have eyes as blue as the ocean and sparkling with life and wonder. Sam didn’t have hair so dark it looked almost black, that looked like the night sky when there were no stars, just endless night. He didn’t have a smile that promised peace and stability.

But Cas did. His eyes were the only stars in that endless night. His smile lit up the emptiness like the moon or the sun. His presence that promised the world. 

Dean smiled at him. Despite the memories that threatened to explode from the box he kept so carefully hidden. Despite all the pain that they brought with them. Because with Cas, everything seemed all right.

Right in that second, Dean Winchester realized that he was deep into the pit that was love. And a hand that was meant to pull him from the hell of nothingness. 

Cas’ hand on his shoulder seemed to burn a brand as it tightened on Dean reassuringly. “You okay?” Cas finally asked. 

“I’m fine. That’s what everyone’s supposed to say, right? ‘I’m fine?’” Dean whispered softly. 

“No, you’re not,” Cas replied. “It’s alright. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. Words came to Dean’s lips, but he couldn’t say them.  _ I think I’m in love with you, Cas. I want you to be my boyfriend, Cas. I need you, Cas.  _ But they died away as Cas spoke.

“Yes,” is all he said. Dean looked to him in question. “You asked if I was gay. Yes.” 

All the air left Dean’s lungs. Every ounce of him was frozen as his heart stilled, yet fluttered wildly at the same time. How was that even possible? “Cas—” Dean began. He didn’t even know what he was going to say. Once again, the words died on his lips and left him mute.

“I’m glad I met you in the library that morning,” Cas said slowly. “Because if I hadn’t,” he took a long breath, “I would have never fallen in love with you, Dean Winchester.” 

It’s strange how one moment in time can stretch out into ages. How a single word could be drawn out as a heart stopped and a boy learned to love. It’s strange how one moment can make you realize that you care for someone. How a single thought could tell you that you’re no longer alone. 

A moment was stretched into a thousand more as Dean Winchester leaned in and kissed Castiel Novak. 

In movies, the camera always pans around a kissing couple, and Dean finally realized why. His whole world was spinning, spinning, spinning, and Cas leaned into him as they kissed. It was hard and unpracticed and  _ right _ . Cas grabbed the back of Dean’s jacket and pulled him closer, harder, faster. Dean’s hands made their way up to cup the back of Cas’ neck and he held them there, holding onto them like a lifeline.

Once they pulled apart, Dean was breathless. Cas was breathless. They were both panting. “Cas, I didn’t mean-- I should have asked--” He reeled back, realizing quite what he had done. 

“You don’t need to apologize,” Cas whispered back. “If you don’t want this...”

“No, I-- I do. I’ve just never, you know, kissed a guy,” Dean admitted. Cas gazed at him with his blue eyes. Those eyes that threatened to swallow Dean up whole. “Does this make us boyfriends?” 

“If you want. If you’re up for the effort of all this,” Cas murmured. “Relationships take effort.” 

Dean leaned in and closed his eyes, letting his forehead rest on Cas’. “I’m all for effort.” 

“If you two lovebirds are done, the movie’s ready.” Gabe’s voice sounded both proud and impatient, and Dean wasn’t sure which of those was more annoying to him. He let his hand drop from Cas’ waist, suddenly self-conscious. A blush crept up his cheeks as he turned to look at Sam and Gabe. Thankfully, Sam seemed to have either not noticed or not cared, but Gabriel was smirking, his eyes glittering. 

Cas brushed his fingers against Dean’s tentatively, like the touch of a feather. A question, unspoken between them. Dean’s heart fluttered as he slipped his hand into Cas’, clutching it tightly. Gabriel rolled his eyes, his mouth still turned up in a small smile. “Come on, you both,” he laughed. 

A light breath tickled Dean’s neck. Cas had sighed in relief, he realized. Maybe it was because, even after all of that, he still was worried that Gabe would hate him.

But how anyone could hate Castiel Novak, Dean had no idea.


	10. Burnin' For You

Gabriel had barely sent a discreet text to Charlie before Dean and Cas sat down on the couch. It was short and to the point, stating that  _ Operation Destiel is a success.  _ He shoved his phone under his leg and scooted closer to Sam, giving them room to sit down. Dean sat by the arm of the couch, practically sitting in the corner. Cas sat close to him, but with about five inches of room to spare.  _ God, they’re awkward,  _ Gabe thought. Sam seemed to notice, too. “Gabe, can you give me a little more room?”

Gabe smiled, knowing  _ exactly  _ what Sam was up to. “Sure, sorry,” he said and moved over so he was pushed against Cas. His older brother looked wholly uncomfortable, and he glanced at the space between him and Dean. With a glare shot in Gabe’s direction, he shifted so that he was leaning slightly towards Dean. 

Sam grinned at Gabriel and gave him a subtle thumbs-up. “Gabriel, start the movie!” Dean complained. 

“All in good time,” he quipped and started the movie. Since Gabe had memorized the entire opening crawl for the original trilogy and the (albeit horrible) prequels, he leaned back and thought about Sam. Smart, funny, kind Sam. He heard Dean whisper something to Cas, low enough that he couldn’t make out any words. Sam nudged him and smirked.  _ Ship it _ , he mouthed. Gabe rolled his eyes, but he agreed fully. 

He felt movement to his left and looked over to see Cas resting against Dean, head on his shoulder. Gabe had to shove his fist against his mouth to keep from… squealing, laughing? He had no idea. 

Once the triumphant opening score and crawl had finished, and the ominous image of a Star Destroyer took over the entire screen, Chuck returned with a plate of sandwiches and a couple of milkshakes. Sam raised his eyebrow at the milkshakes. “Did you make these?” he asked, still in awe of Chuck. 

He laughed. “Appreciate you thinking so, but no. We’ll buy a ton and keep them in the freezer until someone wants one,” he explained. His eyes barely seemed to notice Dean and Cas, but he did. Chuck noticed everything. “I’ll leave you four to it. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

They devoured the sandwiches and binged the entire original trilogy before it got dark. Cas seemed to have fallen asleep on Dean, and Dean himself looked exhausted. Only Sam and Gabe were still wide awake, probably only because of their sugar intake for the day. Dean nudged Cas awake and whispered something to him. They both got up and left without so much of a good night. 

Once they were up the stairs and safely out of earshot, Sam spun around to face Gabe, eyes wide and mouth suppressing a grin. “Holy. Freaking. Shit,” he said. The walls were relatively thin here, and Gabe knew that even if they were talking normally, Dean and Cas could still hear what Sam and Gabe were saying.

“Keep it down a little. Follow me, we can go to the backyard,” he whispered. Gabe grabbed Sam’s wrist and they tiptoed to the glass doors. They opened without a sound and they crept out onto the soft grass. It was colder than Gabe realized, and he grabbed a couple blankets from the couch before they sat down on the grass, grinning like idiots. 

“How long have you known?” Sam asked, grinning madly. 

“Oh, only a few days. Cas gave me one shot to set them up and here we go!” Gabe gestured wildly. 

“So is Cas gay or something?” Gabe nodded and Sam burst out laughing, covering his mouth a moment later. “Is anyone in your family straight?” 

He thought about it for a moment. He had never really realized that with gay Luci and gay Cas and pan Gabe, then it was really only Chuck who was straight. But he still had lingering doubts on that, too. “Hell, I don’t know for sure.” He was suddenly struck by an idea. “What about y’all? Dean bi or something?”

“No clue. I had no idea about anything until they--” he waved a hand in the air, shrugging. Gabe chuckled. 

“That was unexpected,” Gabe replied. “I hadn’t realized their relationship would be that fast-burn.” 

Same laughed. His eyes widened and he clapped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry,” he whispered. “And totally agree, that was crazy.” 

A cold breeze swept through the yard and Sam pushed up against Gabriel slightly for warmth. Almost imperceptibly, he stiffened and moved away. Right. Gabe had  _ almost  _ forgotten about when he basically confessed his love for Sam. Hell, he really hoped they weren’t going to be awkward friends now. “We should go inside,” Gabe said softly. “It’s going to get chilly in a bit.” 

Sam only nodded and picked up a couple of pillows. Before Gabe could say anything else, he was inside the house and putting stuff back on the couch, leaving Gabe sitting silently on the blanket in mild shock. “Damn it,” he muttered. “Damn it all.” 

He gathered the blanket in his arms and tossed it onto the couch before walking up to his room where Sam was already sitting on the air matress. Gabe thought about climbing onto the bed next to Sam and talking to him, but Sam clearly didn’t want to be close to him right now. So instead, he sat cross-legged on his own messy bed and stayed quiet. After a minute of silence, Sam spoke up. “When did you realize?” 

The question took Gabe aback. “Realize what?” 

“Sorry,” Sam apologized. “I should have specified. When did you realize you liked boys?” 

It took a moment for Gabe to fabricate a good answer. “I don’t really know. I had never really thought about it until Luce brought Michael home and announced that he had a boyfriend. He said that if we didn’t like it, then we could suck it up. Then Dad got up and clapped Luce on the shoulder. He said: ‘there is nothing you could be that would make us hate you’ That was when I realized that I wanted something like what Michael and Luce had. From there, it wasn’t a hard jump to realize that I didn’t care what gender the person I ended up with was.” 

Both Sam and Gabe were quiet for a moment. Then Sam asked another question, one that made every inch of Gabe wary and excited at the same time. “Have you ever had a boyfriend?” 

He answered honestly. “No.” Again, there was silence. Gabe’s mind was badgering him, begging him to tell Sam how he felt. But Gabe couldn’t open his mouth and say the words, so he stayed silent. 

“I have one more question, but you don’t have to answer it,” Sam said. He paused for a second, then continued. “Do you like me?” 

There were about a million ways that this could go wrong. Gabe’s mind went through all of them. He could say yes and Sam wouldn’t like him back. He could say no and never have Sam realize that he was lying. He could say yes and lose Sam as a friend. He could say no and lose the chance if Sam really did like him back. Oh, hell, what should he say? He never realized how a yes or no question could make his life so damn hard. Did he really want to risk his friendship with someone so amazing for the sliver of a chance that Sam liked boys  _ and  _ him? 

He realized what his answer was half a second later.

“Of course,” he said. His heart seemed to crack a little bit as he said: “You’re a great friend.” 

“That’s not what I meant. Do you  _ like  _ me?” 

Gabriel’s heart cracked, and he felt it so prominently that he guessed that Sam could hear it. Every inch of his body hurt and he could feel a tiny tear forming in his eye. His heart was screaming at him, telling him to say yes, to say the truth. But he couldn’t, not to Sam, he couldn’t lose Sam. He felt like he was turning off a part of himself, but he realized what he had to do as he looked at Sam and replied.

His voice cracked slightly, and he hoped that Sam would understand what it meant. “No.” 


	11. Lonely Is The Night

Cas’ room was quiet.

Peaceful.

The window on the slanted wall was partially open, and a cool breeze wafted in. Slivers of blue light shone in from the moon, hitting Cas’ door and making a pretty pattern. Cas had an air mattress set up at the foot of his bed, but after a while, they decided to sleep in the same bed. 

They were trying their very hardest to not touch each other, the sense of awkwardness not dispelled by the earlier… events.

The day came rushing back to Dean like a tsunami. Had he really kissed Cas? What the hell had happened? He flipped over so he was facing the door and not Cas, eyes searching the wall for answers. “You okay, Dean?” Cas’ voice was laced with worry. It was nice to hear that sound of concern from anyone other than Sam. It was always Sam that was scared for Dean. Dean tried to banish the memories from his mind, but it was too late. The angry yells took over. 

The feeling of a hand on his shoulder seemed to pull him up from his mind-hell. “Sorry. I was just… thinking.” He hoped that the dismissal in his tone was enough to get Cas to not push it. But another part of him wanted Cas to ask about it.

“Is it your Dad?” Cas asked. Dean rolled over again to face Cas. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.” 

He did, though. He  _ needed  _ to talk about it, or otherwise he might never tell Cas. “Just don’t ask questions,” was all he replied with. He didn’t know if he could get through it all if Cas interrupted him. 

“My mom died when I was four. House-fire, but my dad always suspected arson. There was this arsonist in my hometown who called himself Azazel,” Dean said softly. 

“A prince of hell,” Cas whispered. 

“Yeah. Dad was never the same afterward. He wanted to catch Azazel, but he never could. He was just an ordinary guy. The police ruled out murder and arson, then that was that. He couldn’t bear to live in Lawrence any longer, so we moved. Then he didn’t like where we were then, so we moved again.” Tears sprang unbidden into Dean’s eyes, the memory overpowering. 

“After Mom died, Dad drank. He would drink himself to the edge of death, then pass out, wake up, and drink some more. Sammy and I got home from school one night and he was drunk on the couch. He was five then, I was nine. We had moved eleven times in the past five years and we were sick of it. I wanted to go home, and Sam was too young to remember where home was. 

“So I walked over to my dad and asked him if we could stay. I said that we had moved enough, and we needed to settle down and let Sammy live his life here, instead of moving place-to-place every six months. Dad didn’t say anything, he just stood up, grabbed a beer bottle, and slammed it onto my shoulder.” A phantom pain lanced up his arm when he remembered. “It didn’t break, so he hit me again.” This time, a tear fell down his cheek. 

“Once the bottle had shattered and the glass was in my shoulder, he hit me with the nearest book.” It had been a phone book. John had hit him in the gut, back, chest, then threw it aside and punched his face. All the while, Sam had been screaming, screaming so loudly that if they had neighbors, they would have assumed bloody murder. But they had been in a cheap-ass motel with not a soul for miles. “Only when I was unconscious did he stop. Then he walked out of the motel to the nearest bar.”

“Oh my God,” Cas breathed. His blue eyes sparkled with shock and tears. Dean pulled up his left sleeve to reveal the ancient scars. There were jagged lines where the shards had sunk into his skin.

“Sam called 9-1-1, he was old enough to know how. When Dad came to pick me up from the hospital, he said that I had gotten into a fight on the playground and some kid hit me with a glass bottle.” He had to take a deep breath. “They didn’t question it. The next day, we moved four states over. I don’t even know if he remembers that night at all. After that… he hit me whenever he wanted. He learned to not hit my face, not where people could see it. He’s never hit Sam, though.” 

Cas was so silent that Dean wondered if he had fallen asleep. The tears flooding his eyes made it hard to focus on Cas’ blue ones. But once he blinked the tears away, he saw Cas doing the same. Blinking away tears. 

Wordlessly, he grabbed Dean and pulled him closer, lacing his fingers in Dean’s. “Like Dad said earlier,” he whispered, so quietly that Dean barely heard him. “You’re always welcome to stay over.” 

Dean squeezed his hand, words unable to express how much it meant to him that Cas gave him this place to run away to. A hand-- Cas’ hand-- lifted up and brushed a stray piece of hair from his face. The touch sent a shiver of something coursing through him. His heart stumbled a beat and he wanted to hold Cas, kiss Cas. “Cas--” he gasped.

Cas silenced him with a kiss. Dean suddenly couldn’t see anything but Cas, feel anything but Cas, hear anything but Cas. It was as if the entire world had paused for just a moment. All sense rushed out of his mind and he reached up to Cas’ head, letting his fingers tangle in his hair and pull Cas closer. 

They barely let each other go to breathe, then they were connected again. Every place where they touched felt electric. Heat was surging through his veins and he couldn’t remember anything but his name and Cas’. 

As if on instinct, Cas slid his hand up Dean’s shirt and felt the panes of his stomach and chest. Dean huffed a breath and let go of Cas just long enough to yank his shirt over his head. Then they were back together, both of them barely breathing. 

Dean’s back had become slick with sweat, and so had Cas’. The sheets were sticking to him, to all of the scars rising from his back, but he barely noticed them as he kissed Cas. Cas slid his hand over Dean’s torso, his other arm keeping him from falling over as he rolled Dean over and moved on top of him. His knees were straddling Dean’s hips and Dean had to lean forward an inch to reach Cas. 

Every move that Cas made felt amplified wherever they touched. Dean let out a soft moan as Cas moved his kisses down to Dean’s neck, biting softly at the tender skin. “Cas--” he breathed. “ _ Cas _ \--” 

After what felt like both an eternity and a moment, they let go of each other, panting and sucking in deep breaths. Dean felt dizzy, his mind in a haze. 

Cas was breathing heavily. Slowly, he reached over and took Dean’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m here if you ever need me, Dean,” he said softly, voice thick.

“I know, Cas,” Dean replied. 

He slept soundly the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say thank you for all the support I've gotten on this work. You all are so amazing and it makes me so happy to read the comments and see that people actually like my writing!


	12. Dust In The Wind

   Gabe dreamt that night. He dreamed of a beach, with white sand and turquoise waters. In his dream, he was walking down the beach, his feet leaving footprints in the moist sand. There were two sets of footprints, one following Gabriel and the other following his companion.

His companion had dark hair and shocking eyes. There was a familiarity to it, but he couldn’t place the face to a name. He walked down the beach and sat down in the fine sand. The other boy sat next to him and pressed up close to Gabe to battle a chill that wasn’t there. Without thinking, Gabe leaned into the presence at his side, a comfort that he didn’t have in his waking moments. 

An arm wrapped around him and they sat, huddled together, as the sun set beneath the watery horizon. In his dream, there was a single tear that fell down his face as he turned to look at Sam. That’s who it was, Gabe remembered. It was Sam. 

His face seemed different, though. It was more faded, as if there was a veil between Gabriel and Sam. Gabe tried to reach out and touch Sam, but there was an invisible wall in between them. Sam looked to Gabe then, regret and pain in his eyes. The sound of the water had faded and all that there was was darkness and Sam, walking away. 

Gabe pounded on the wall and shouted Sam’s name.  _ Sam!  _ He yelled, but no sound came out. Sam looked over his shoulder back at Gabriel and said, “If you love me, just say it, and I’ll stay.” 

_ I do,  _ Gabe wanted to say.  _ I do love you.  _ There was no sound, just the silence as Sam turned around and walked into the darkness. “Sam!” Gabriel called. He found his voice, but this time Sam didn’t hear him. “Sam, please, turn around!  _ Please! _ ” 

Please.

When Gabriel woke up, he could clearly see Sam. He was asleep, peaceful, covered in the sheets as slivers of moonlight cast over his calm face. But, it felt that even there, with Sam less than six feet away from him, he was farther from him than ever.

Quietly, he sent a text to Charlie. It was short and easy for her to decipher, and she replied a moment later. As silent as he could, he slipped out of his bed and pulled on a sweatshirt. He didn’t even bother to put on shoes as he slid his window open and crawled through onto his roof.

Gabe had learned how to sneak out of his room when he was nine. There was an oak tree that curved over onto their roof from the front yard. All Gabriel had to do was tip-toe over the roof as to not wake Chuck or Cas, and climb down. He had done it enough times by then that he climbed down in seconds and raced down the street. 

Charlie lived nine streets over and six up. It was a long trek, but he could make it in his sleep at this point. As he ran past houses, the midnight air swept at his face. It wasn’t as cold as Gabe had anticipated, so by the time he reached Charlie’s house, he was sweating. Her house, like Gabe’s, was two stories, but sneaking into her room was a hundred times harder than getting in or out of Gabe’s. So he didn’t. Instead, he grabbed a key that she kept hidden under a rock and unlocked her door. The click of the lock was quiet, so he didn’t wake her parents. After closing the door behind him, he crept through the halls until he got to Charlie’s room. 

Without a word, she ushered him inside and quietly closed the door. She opened the window and they both climbed out onto the roof. 

It barely took a minute before tears started rolling down Gabe’s face.

Charlie rubbed his back as he cried softly, comforting him although she still had no idea what was wrong. After he composed himself, she asked, “What happened?” 

Gabriel described everything that had happened when he and Sam went to the backyard and then up to Gabe’s room, leaving the parts about Sam’s and Dean’s dad out of it. Once he had finished, she pulled him into a hug. “What have I done?” he whispered to her.

It was strange how, even though she was a year younger than he was, she was probably his closest friend other than Sam, and he wasn’t sure if Sam was really an option anymore. “I don’t think you can go back, or change what you said. At this point, it might be kinder to just not tell him. To both him and yourself. But if you think he likes you…” she drifted off in thought. “Even if he does like you, I doubt he’d say anything about it now.” 

“He asked me, though. Does that mean he does like me?” Charlie laughed. 

“Really, Gabe, my superpower is my gaydar, not determining if people have a crush,” she said. “Why don’t you use your grapevine?” It was a decent idea. His Grapevine might be the best way to see if Sam liked him without outright saying it. But then he would have to send the message down the entire Grapevine. It would only take one person before Sam heard about it. 

“It’s too risky,” Gabe decided. “What about Jo? Could she learn what she could from Sam without telling him?” 

Charlie considered it. “I don’t know if she would tell Sam or not. She’s known him for forever. I’m not even sure if her loyalty to me is equal to her loyalty to the Winchesters.” She paused. “What if she did tell him?” 

Gabe’s heart fluttered for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“She could tell Sam that you liked him. If he doesn’t like you back, she can let you know and you don’t have to bring it up to him again. If he does, then you know and can ask him out or something.” It was a really good idea, now that Gabe thought about it. It would keep him from losing Sam’s friendship while still letting him know that he liked him. 

It was time to plan.

    “I like it. Here’s my idea.”


	13. Can't Find My Way Home

Dean was grateful that Chuck didn’t ask about him and Cas. That would have put a certain strain on his emotions right then that he probably couldn’t handle.

Dean was also grateful for the breakfast that Chuck prepared for them. The two Novak boys had french toast (Lucifer had stayed the night at Michael’s), Sam had opted for pancakes, and Dean chose the pie.

Obviously.

Their dining room table sat six people: two on each side and one at each head of the table. Cas and Dean sat next to each other, hands holding under the table. Gabe and Sam sat on the other side, Gabriel sitting strangely far from Sam. Chuck was in his office, writing away. “He does that often,” Cas said as he noticed Dean staring at the closed office door. “Goes on a writing spree and only comes out to go to the bathroom and make food for us.”

“He usually only does it when he’s close to finishing a book, too,” Gabe chimed in. Sam’s head perked up.

“Really? Is it a sequel to Swan Song? Or is it a spin-off?” he asked, voice laced with excitement.

“None of us really know,” Cas replied. “We only get to read it a month or two before it gets published. I’d guess a sequel to Swan Song, though. He did tell us that it would be called ‘Exile on Main Street.’” Sam nodded stoically at the name as if judging its quality.

Any other time, Dean would be happy that Sam was enjoying himself. And he was, in part. But he had a thought that stayed lodged in the back of his head, unable to leave and casting a shadow over his mood.

He hadn’t come home last night. Neither had Sam. If they were lucky, John would have been drunk and not remember it. If they were unlucky… Dean was considering making Sam stay at the Novaks while he dealt with John.

But he knew that Sam would never go for it. While Dean could probably force him to stay, make Cas and Gabe and Chuck look after him, he still would try to leave, or do something incredibly stupid. All Dean could do at this point was pray to whatever shit God was up there and get lucky.

“Dean?” Cas’ voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Are you alright?” He looked concerned. Dean couldn’t blame him.

“I, uh, yeah,” he lied. “I’m fine.” It was as if he was replaying their conversation from the day before. _I’m fine_ , he had said. _That’s what everyone’s supposed to say, right? I’m fine?_ But now, Cas saw through the lie easily. He didn’t push it though. He knew that Dean would tell him if he needed to talk about it.

He gave Dean’s hand a light squeeze under the table, a reassuring pressure that made a small weight lift off of his shoulders. Dean squeezed back.

“I asked about Dad,” Sam said slowly, carefully. “What are you going to say to him?”

He couldn’t tell John about Cas, that was for sure. He probably couldn’t tell him he stayed the night at someone else’s house, but that was the only option short of saying they slept on the streets. Any way he put it, John would hit him. He only hoped that he wouldn’t hit Sam. “I don’t know,” Dean only said.

At this point, he had resigned to the certainty of more bruises later in the day. More cuts, more slices. More of everything. “You’ll be careful though, right?” Sam said.

“Now isn’t the time, Sam. I’ll figure it out.” He didn’t want to somber the mood by these negative thoughts and speech.

Then his phone buzzed. Mercifully, it wasn’t a call from John, but the relief was short-lived. It was his alarm, the one he had set to tell him it was time to go back to the motel. Back to John.

Cas seemed to notice Dean’s face falling. “You need to go, don’t you?” he asked softly. Dean nodded.

“Sam?” His voice wavered. “Time to go.”

To his immense relief, Sam didn’t argue, didn’t object. Only stood up to leave. Cas stood with Dean, pulling him into a tight hug. “Please be careful, Dean,” he whispered into his ear. His breath breezed against his ear and a shiver went down Dean’s spine. Partially from Cas. Partially from fear.

Dean squeezed lightly. “I will,” he promised.

“Don’t let him hurt you, Dean,” Cas said. His voice had hardened, it sounded like he was holding back tears. “Don’t let him win.”

“But Sam--”

“Dean,” Cas said firmly. He forced Dean’s head up with a hand against his chin. “Don’t let him hurt you.”

Dean’s throat tightened. He swallowed. “Okay,” he finally choked out. “Okay.”

Cas pulled him in and kissed him lightly. “Stay safe for me, Dean. Please.” It broke Dean, hearing Cas so desperate. So scared. And to hell with it all if Dean wasn’t terrified, too. They broke apart and Dean looked to Sam. Gabriel looked like he wanted to say something to Sam, but he only lightly hugged him before stepping away.

“Ready?” Dean asked, fighting to keep his voice steady. Sam nodded and followed Dean out of the door.

The car ride back to the motel was silent. No music, no conversations, just the quiet purr of the Impala. When he pulled into the parking lot, he knew that John heard the creak of the doors opening and closing. Knew that John was entirely aware of their arrival.

Sam stopped him with an arm on his shoulder.

“Let me go in first,” he said quietly. “Please.”

Dean was suddenly filled with panic. “No,” he snapped. “No way.”

“Dean, please,” he begged. His eyes said everything, the fear, the terror, everything that Dean felt and more.

“It’s my job to protect you, Sam!” Dean exclaimed.

“What do you think my job is, Dean?” Sam yelled. It only occurred to Dean in that moment how tall, how big Sam was. How much he had grown up in the past year, the past few months. “What do you think I’m supposed to do?”

“Stay safe!” Dean yelled back. “This conversation’s over. Don’t get in my way, Sammy. Please, just do this for me.” He pushed past Sam and made to open the door.

“What about Cas?” Sam’s voice was soft. Like he knew exactly what that sentence did to Dean. _Stay safe for me_. No. He couldn’t let this get in the way of Sam. He had to protect Sam. _Please._

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Dean said, blinking away tears. _I’m sorry, Cas._ He willed courage into himself and opened the door.

The first thing he noticed was the stench of vomit and alcohol. But that was relatively normal.

Then he saw John, standing in the center of the room, rage boiling in his eyes. Before he could say anything, he grabbed Dean by the shirt and shoved him into the wall. “Where were you?!” he demanded. His breath smelled like cheap beer. He must have been drunk out of his mind.

“At a friend’s house,” Dean said. His voice cracked.

“BULLSHIT!” John shouted. “Where were you?”

“He’s telling the truth, Dad.” No. Sam. No.

John let go of Dean. Sam had the door closed behind him and he was standing in front of it, back pressed against the metal. “You’re both liars.”

He started advancing on Sam, swaying slightly on his feet. “Liars,” he spat and raised his hand. His hand, that had a beer bottle in it.

Dean’s vision went red. Everything went red. All he could see, all he could focus on, was John, was Sam.

As he swallowed and said six words.

“I was at my boyfriend’s house.”

Six words. That was all it took for John to pause and turn around. Pause and look Dean straight in the eye. Slowly, with venom and hate coating every word, he spoke. “Your _boyfriend_?” It voice was deadly soft, a calm that didn’t reach the raging fires in his eyes. It only was six words, six words that opened the gates of hell and let all hell break loose.

Faster than should have been possible, he whirled his fist around and slammed the glass bottle in Dean’s face.

It shattered in impact.

Sam screamed his name. _Dean_. He barely noticed as John cast the neck of the bottle aside and punched Dean in the gut, knocking his breath away. With a shout, he crumpled against the wall, but John wasn’t finished.

Three, four, five more punches. To his face, his gut, his jaw.

He felt unconsciousness looming as blood dripped from his open mouth. John didn’t stop, the fury radiating from him like fire.

 _Don’t let him win_.

Time slowed. Dean could feel the adrenaline that shocked through his body. His vision sharpened with the spike of adrenaline and he moved. Two punches in quick succession. One, two, straight into John’s gut.

John staggered backward and braced himself on a chair as he looked back at Dean with all the anger of the Devil. “You little--”

He crumpled to the floor like a rag doll. There was a look of shock plastered on his face and he fell. For a moment, Dean couldn’t realize why he had so suddenly collapsed.

Then he saw Sam, holding the remains of a wooden chair. The wooden chair that he had slammed into the back of John’s head, knocking him out cold.

Sam stared at Dean, the blood dripping from his head. He looked to John, and a look of horror replaced his one of shock.

“Oh, God.”

 


	14. Carry On My Wayward Son

Cas wouldn’t stop pacing. Not while Dean was in danger or anything. He should have stopped them from leaving. He kept telling himself that he should have made Dean and Sam stay. 

Even if he was a writer like Chuck, he wouldn’t be able to find the words to describe how he felt. That mix of worry and terror that was unparalleled in anything he had ever felt before. He was sure his hands were red already, from his incessant rubbing and kneading. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Gabriel. “He’ll be okay, Cas.” There was no mistaking it, though. No masking the fear in Gabe’s voice. Cas couldn’t mask his, either, when he replied. 

“He has to be.” He should have stopped them. He should have made them stay, made them be safe instead of having to face John. Should have called the police or something. 

“You couldn’t have stopped them,” Gabe said as if reading Cas’ thoughts. “You know that.” Cas did, he did know. But in no way did that mean that he needed to accept that his hands were tied when it came to John Winchester and his boys. 

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know. I just-- we should have at least done something.” 

“They chose to go back. We couldn’t have stopped them even if we wanted to. You just have to trust that they’ll stay safe.” Gabe cared for Sam. Maybe not as much as Cas cared for Dean, but still. He cared. He was scared, too. 

“We shouldn’t have let them go back.” Images flashed in his mind. Dean’s scars. He remembered Dean’s voice, telling him his story. He must be so scared, Cas realized. 

“We can’t do anything now.” Somehow, Chuck had come out without Cas hearing him. Silently, he took Cas in his arms, letting Cas sob into his chest. He felt like a child again, crying to his father. Finding comfort in his arms. “They’ll be safe. They’ll come back,” he said. “Look who they have waiting for them.” 

And he was right. Dean would come back to him, he had to. “It shouldn’t be like this,” Cas cried. “Life shouldn’t be like a book. We shouldn’t be worried if someone’s going to come home alive.” He had to come back. He had to be alive because Cas would feel it. He would know if something were wrong.

Wouldn't he? 

There were no more words to be spoken. Everything felt muted as Cas fell onto the couch, staring blankly ahead. He only heard the steady thump of his heart as he stared ahead. Time was nothing as he waited, the emptiness that had replaced fear taking over his mind. 

Absently, he felt Gabe sit down next to him and curl up into a ball. Cas just silently draped an arm over him and pulled him closer. 

He had no idea how long they sat there. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours. One thing he did know, however, was what pulled him from his state.

A ringing on his phone. 

He flew to the vibrating phone and smashed the answer button, only having to look at the contact for a split second before collapsing to the floor. His heart pounded, roared in his ears. “Dean? Dean, are you okay?” 

There was silence, and for a moment, Cas felt his heart stop. Then there was his voice, such a sweet sound that Cas nearly cried again. That one dash of hope was then entirely obliterated by what his voice said. 

“We need help. Cicero Pines Motel.” There was a thump and Cas heard a muffled shout, then the line went dead. 

He barely thought as he shoved the phone into his pocket and snatched the keys from the counter. “Gabe, get in the car,” Cas said as he raced for the garage. Whatever urgency was in Cas’ tone was enough for Gabe to sprint to the car and jump in shotgun. In seconds, they were speeding through the streets. “Map me to Cicero Pines Motel,” he ordered. Gabe typed into his phone. 

“Make a left on Singer, then go until you hit the highway. South until Roman, then left onto Masters,” Gabe said. Cas floored the pedal. The back roads were nearly deserted, so barely anyone noticed as he sped past them. All the drive, there was a roaring in his ears, a panic that ran so deep that he could barely think. 

“What’s wrong?” Gabe asked as they flew down Roman Street. 

“Don’t know,” Cas said shortly. “Dean said he needed help, that was it.” He kept hearing the crash, the shout. Dean had to be okay, he had to. He had to.

He had to.

Cas repeated those words as he swerved onto Masters. “What from here?” he snapped. He regretted snapping at Gabriel, but he really didn’t care at the moment.

“Turn right,” Gabriel said. “Now!” The car tires squealed and he pulled into the driveway. 

His heart stopped. Just… stopped.

There were two ambulances, three police cars. They had made some kind of barricade around a room. There were stretchers, both of them had bodies on them. 

“Oh, God,” Cas breathed. He almost fell out of the car as he pushed it open, gripping the handle tightly for support. “ _ Oh, God _ .” 

He wasn’t sure if he was breathing, if he was talking or the words were just echoing in his head.

_ God, no. Please, no.  _

It was silent, utterly silent. People were talking, but he couldn’t hear them. 

He neared the ambulances and saw one of the bodies. His knees nearly gave out as he walked forward only seeing that body. A hand blocked his way and he heard a voice telling him that he couldn’t come in there, heard it as if he was below water. “Please,” his voice broke. “Please, he’s my boyfriend.”  _ Please.  _

He sensed a presence at his side. Gabriel. The officer lifted his hand and let Cas pass. He heard the officer talking to Gabriel, saying something to him, but he didn’t look back.

“Cas.” Sam. Cas just pushed him aside and staggered to Dean, hands shaking. There was a faint rise and fall of his chest, faint breaths forming. His eyes, his green eyes that held a thousand forests and gems in them, they were closed. His knuckles were bloody, his nose broken— 

_ Oh, God.  _ “Dean,” he breathed.  _ Please hear me. Please be okay.  _

One second passed. 

Two.

A hand slipped into his, grabbing on weakly. Cas swallowed a sob. He rubbed his thumb over the red skin, softly tracing Dean’s knuckles. 

A strong hand pulled him away. He cried out at the sudden and forceful separation and whirled. An officer with short dark hair and blue eyes was standing there. She was short but sturdily built. “Deputy Jody Mills. You need to step away and let the medics get him to the hospital.” Her voice was calm, collected. How could she be calm? “Listen, kid. He’ll be fine. I know you care about him. They’re taking him to St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. You can follow the ambulance on the way.” Cas nodded, throat dry. “Now, I need to know. Do you have any idea what happened here?” 

“I—” Yes. He knew about John, he knew that he hit Dean. But that wasn’t his story to tell. “What did Sam tell you?” 

“The brother? Nothing, yet. He’s not speaking until his brother’s awake in the hospital.” That didn’t sound like Sam. Then again, he didn’t know him very well. 

“Once Dean wakes up, Sam will talk. I can’t tell you more than that, Officer,” Cas said. 

“If you know anything that can help us—” Mills tried again. 

“Listen, Officer. I know you’re trying to help. Right now, I only care about two things. One: making sure my boyfriend is okay. Two: making sure my boyfriend’s brother is okay. Now ask your questions to someone who gives a shit.” He honestly felt bad for snapping at her, and he was pretty sure that yelling at a police officer was going to get him in trouble someday, but his priorities were exactly where he said they were. 

Mills looked shocked, then abashed. “Of course. I know this is hard for you. We can talk later once Dean wakes up.” She began to walk away. 

“Wait,” Cas said. “Their dad. John Winchester. What happened to him?” 

“Someone hit him on the head with a chair,” Mills replied. “He’s knocked out on the other stretcher.” With that, she turned and walked away. 

Cas watched as they lifted Dean up into the ambulance, closed the door, and drove off. He packed Gabe and Sam into the car and followed behind it, Cas’ entire body shaking from holding down tears. “What happened?” he asked in a quiet voice.

Sam didn’t reply for a moment. “John tried to hit me. Dean hit him. I hit him,” he said sharply. Cas heard Gabe whisper something to him, a comfort or reassuring words, he was sure. 

He pulled into Bart’s and parked his car. The receptionist pointed him to a room three floors up, and the three of them went up in silence. Gabe had an arm around Sam, holding him close. Cas felt a pang as he thought of him and Dean just the night before. Was it really only yesterday when he had charged down the stairs and tried to get Sam to leave? Was it only yesterday when Dean had kissed him and he had kissed Dean? Was it only yesterday when everything felt alright?

As he felt the blanket of silence over them all, the dark mood that the day had put over them, he felt another presence in the hospital.

Death.


	15. For There'll Be Peace When You Are Done

“Dinner is served!” A large plate with a healthy serving of Winchester Surprise on it clattered onto the table. John smiled at Dean, then at Sam, in his chair. Then Mary, who smiled back. “Don’t wait or anything, eat up!” she exclaimed. “You know Winchester Surprise is best piping hot.” 

Without needing another invitation, Dean heaped a large portion onto his plate. Sam barked out a complaint, then dumped some of Dean’s food onto his plate. “You excited for winter break?” John asked the boys. Sam mumbled something through a mouthful of food.

“Oh,  _ yes _ ,” Dean translated. “A break will be so nice.” 

Sam swallowed and nodded. “Can’t wait.” 

“Bobby and I got some new customers, so we’ll probably be able to afford a ham again this year,” John said. “You can roast it like you did last year.” Mary smiled.

“Maybe some of your friends want to come over?” she said to Dean and Sam. Friends. The word struck a chord in Dean. He couldn’t remember the names of his friends for a moment. 

“I can ask Gordon and Michael. I think they’d like to,” Dean said.  _ That’s wrong _ . Some part of that was wrong. 

“I think Jess could come over, too. She’d enjoy ham, but I think she’s talking about becoming vegetarian,” Sam offered. 

“Vegetarian!” Dean exclaimed. “Come on, Sammy, you’re dating a vegetarian?” 

Sam scoffed. “She’s not a vegetarian, she just wants to be.” 

“And she doesn’t even like pie,” he muttered under his breath. “What kind of monster doesn’t like pie?” 

“Oh, shut up, Dean. At least I’ve got a girlfriend,” Sam smirked. Dean could have sworn he was in a relationship. But the details, everything seemed to evade him.

He needed water.

Dean pushed back his chair and moved to the kitchen. “Dean? Are you okay?” Mary asked, concerned. 

“Yeah,” Dean replied. The glasses were in the second to left cabinet, at least he remembered that. But they were all charred, burnt. “Are there any clean glasses?” 

“Dishwasher!” John called. He grabbed a glass from the dishwasher and filled it with icy water. He took a long sip, letting a drop of water dribble down his chin. It tasted good, in that way when you’re thirsty in the middle of summer and you get a cool glass of water. He emptied the glass and filled it again, drinking half of it before returning to the table.

“You sure you’re good?” John asked. “You look a little pale.” 

Dean waved a hand. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Anyway, how’s Jess?” 

“Good. Some of her friends are coming into town later, Gabriel and Cas,” Sam said. 

_ Castiel _ . The name, that was the only name he remembered. Then, a second later:  _ Gabriel _ . 

“Cas,” Dean breathed. Sam looked at him. 

“You know him?” 

This wasn’t real. All of this was wrong. 

Then there was a voice. It was like there was a whisper of wind in his ear, carrying the voice far enough for Dean to hear it. 

_ “They say that you can hear me. I don’t know if you can, but please Dean. Come back to me.”  _ Cas. 

“This isn’t real.” Dean stood up so abruptly he knocked his chair over. There were doors all around him, to the kitchen, out of the house, up the stairs, into the cupboard under the stairs. Would any of them lead him home? 

_ “Come back home, Dean.”  _

“I need to get out of here.”

“Dean? What do you mean? Are you okay?” Mary sounded genuinely scared. A memory flashed in front of him, of burning wood and John yelling for him to take Sammy and run. 

“You’re not real,” he said, pointing to Mary. “You’re dead.”

“What are you talking about, Son?” John said. “Your mother’s fine.”

“No, no, no, this is all wrong.” 

_ “I’m scared, Dean. Sam is, too, he just won’t admit it to Gabe. He won’t talk to anyone but Gabe. Please, we need you.”  _ He yanked open the kitchen door. It was the same as before, nothing special about it. Stairs, cupboard, office, every door until the last one, the door to the front yard. Some part of him knew that that door would take him home. It had to.  _ “I need you.”  _

He didn’t even think as he pulled it open and walked forward, falling into an abyss of blackness. 

He didn’t have any time to gasp or shout as he plummeted into the darkness. It was as if he was falling through silks, grabbing at his arms and hands as he fell and fell and fell.

Then it just stopped. 

Dean stood up, looking around. There was nothing except a smoky veil. Whispers floated from it as he neared close enough to read the inscription on the arch. 

_Mors est a porta ad caelum, vitae is a porta usque ad inferos._

Somehow, in some deep knowledge, he knew what it meant. It was right, too. But he knew that if he walked through it, he would return to the living, he would wake up.

It was barely even a decision. 

He took a deep breath and walked forward. The smoke nipped at his arms like mist, and perhaps that was what it was. Mist. Faces loomed, faces he recognized. Mary was there, so was his grandfather Samuel. 

It was like being pulled up from a deep sleep, after being underwater. It rushed up and around his face, getting into his eyes, his ears, his mouth until—

There was a bright light. It was either the sun or a hospital light and he wasn’t sure which. It was quiet, though, other than the soft rustle of a body moving to the right of him. 

“Sam?” he asked, his voice hoarse. He was beginning to be able to make out the three figures that were around him. There was pressure at the foot of his bed, and someone was in a chair in the corner of the room. At the sound of his voice, the figure at the end of the bed perked up and whirled to face him. 

“Dean?” Sam barely finished the word before he launched himself into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around Dean. There were tears on his cheeks and eyes. 

“I’m okay, Sammy.” Then he noticed the hand on his. There was a light pressure, just the soft feel of a hand resting on his. Cas. He squeezed Cas’ hand lightly and felt a squeeze back. “What time is it?” 

“12:46 in the morning,” Sam answered, then his face darkened. 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

Sam didn’t even sugar-coat it. He said it solidly, with no waver in his voice or crack of pitch. Just in an even, dead tone. “Dad— John— died. At 11:59.”


	16. Lay Your Weary Head To Rest

Gabe knew that Sam wasn’t sad. He knew that Sam was guilty for not being sad, for not being filled with grief or anger. He knew that Sam thought he had killed John.

Dean, he wasn’t sad. He was devastated. As soon as Sam spoke those words, it was as if Dean had shattered. Like every part of him had gone to dust and he was struggling to pick himself back up again, but even then he would never be whole again. Those shocking shamrock eyes welled with tears, as they glistened and sparkled with endless pain. As if he had just come from a world of peace into a world of pain.

He hated John. He hated him for everything he had done to Dean, to Sam. Hated him for the pain that he caused Cas in the last day. He was glad that he was dead, yet he knew that Sam was in pain. He wanted to comfort him, hold him until he was better. It would take months, maybe years, for Sam to be better. 

“How?” Dean asked, his voice shaking like a tree in the wind. 

“They said it was a combination of things,” Cas said, sparing Sam from having to answer. “His drinking had weakened his ability to heal, he had gotten in dozens of bar fights in the past few weeks. Sam hitting him was the final straw.” 

Sam looked away, shame flickering in his sunflower eyes. Gabe knew that Sam wanted to get out, get fresh air and get away from the guilt that hovered over him when he spoke to Dean or Cas about John. But he wouldn’t leave Dean, not when he had just woken up. “I need to grab some water,” he said. “Care to join, Sam?” 

He cast a worried look to Dean, who nodded slightly. Silently, he trailed after Gabriel. He passed the vending machines and water fountains, instead leading Sam to the courtyard. Neither of them spoke as they sat on a wooden bench. “It’s not your fault,” Gabe said as Sam rested his head on his shoulder. 

“Yes, it is,” Sam only said. 

“You acted on instinct: he was hurting your brother, he was going to hurt you. It was self-defense. No one can fault you for that.” 

“I can.”

He wrapped his arm around Sam, hugging him closer. “I don’t. Neither should you.” Sam needed stability. Gabe really didn’t know how to give him that, his best option was three floors above him in a hospital bed. “He started himself on this path long before you hit him,” Gabe told him. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s him.” 

“That’s not true.” Sam shifted away from him, the place where their bodies had touched suddenly going cold. “I’m going back to Dean.” 

Without thinking, Gabe blurted out the one thing that had been in the back of his mind. “I lied. Last night, I lied.” 

Sam stopped in the middle of the path. His back was to Gabe, but he saw his shoulders tighten and stiffen as if he were building a wall in front of his emotions. “What?” If Gabe were to write the tone that Sam used in that single word, he would have done entirely lowercase. It was flat and wholly devoid of emotion, empty in such a way that echoed how empty Sam seemed. 

“When you asked me if I liked you. I lied.” 

Slowly, Sam turned around. Slowly, he sat back down on the bench. 

“I know,” was all he said. 

And slowly, he reached for Gabriel’s hand and grabbed it in his own.

His hand was cold, so cold it felt like ice, but Gabe just pulled Sam close again and draped his arm around him. Sam fell into the embrace, almost as if on instinct. It was one second, two, then he began to cry. 

“I killed him,” he cried. “He’s gone.” 

And however cruel and abusive John had been, however drunk and absent, he was still their father. “You didn’t kill him,” Gabe whispered. His breath moved the strands of Sam’s hair, tickling his nose and forehead. 

“I never knew my Mom,” Gabriel said, sharing a story only Cas and Luci and Chuck knew. He didn’t even know if Luci had told Michael. “She left Dad after I was born. Luci is the only one who remembers her. I don’t even know her name. I always thought I hated her for leaving us, leaving Cas and me, leaving Luci when he was only seven. I wondered if it was because of me that she left.” He remembered Luci describing her. Blonde hair that shone like the sun, blue eyes that were exactly as deep and blue as Cas’. He always imagined her to be beautiful, even though he had never met her. 

“For years, Luci would tell us a story about how he was at the playground one day, and Mom was over at the benches. He fell from the swing set and started to cry. She went over to him and lifted him up. She said: ‘Next time you fall off, don’t cry. Next time you fall off, stand back up and get back on. That will make you stronger.’” Sam had stopped crying, quietly listening to his story, not saying a word. 

“I always told myself that. Whenever I fell down, I would tell myself to get back up and do it again until I was better at it. I wanted her to come back, so I could have a mom. In a way, I did have one, just not like her. Aunt Amara helped raise me and Cas, so she’s the closest thing to a mom I got. But it wasn’t-- it’s not the same.” 

It had been a sunny day. He always dreamed about it as if it was raining, water sliding down the windows instead of beams of light streaming through. “It was three years ago, on April 16. We got a phone call from a hospital in Texas saying that she had gotten in a car wreck and was killed. She was drunk driving, they said. She hit a car and nearly killed the five-year-old child inside.” Chuck hadn’t come out of his room for days afterward. Luci hadn’t either. “I didn’t understand why I was sad. I didn’t know her, she was as good as a stranger to me. But for weeks after that, any mention of her would have me crying.” 

He remembered one specific day, Mother’s Day. Amara had come for the event, but when people asked why they looked so different-- Gabe had to leave school early that day. “I still miss her.” 

Sam didn’t say anything. He just looked at his hands, breathing softly. “You haven’t told anyone else that, have you?” he finally asked. Gabriel’s silence was answer enough. “Thank you.” He rested his head on Gabe’s shoulder again, his arms wrapping around him tightly. 

“For what?” 

“Believing in me.”


	17. Don't You Cry No More

**Two Months Later**

The Novaks took Christmas incredibly seriously. Not like Christians, with church services and whatnot, but their entire house was bedecked in Christmas Spirit. The front of their house was neon lights galore, with an entire winter wonderland scene set up on the grass. A light caking of snow rested on the roofs and lawn. 

Inside the house were garlands, small decorative Christmas trees  _ everywhere _ , and a massive tree decked with ornaments and lights was the centerpiece of the living room. Supposedly, it was Chuck who did the majority of the work, decorating their home to make it extra welcoming on Christmas Eve.

Chuck-- well Gabe and Cas, really-- had invited over Sam and Dean, and by extension, Jo. Jo invited Charlie, Luci invited Michael, and it had become a massive party. They all gathered around the table to eat the Christmas ham (all except Charlie, who was vegetarian). They shared stories, Charlie describing one instance that she was friends with a boy named Richard Roman, but insisted people called him Dick. Jokes ensued the rest of the night, much to Chuck’s chagrin. “So, I walk to get coffee with him one day, and he tells me that he’s part of this weird-ass cult called Leviathan,” Charlie laughed. “I mean, it’s one thing to be in a cult, but at least give it a decent name!” Dean chuckled from where he sat next to Cas. 

“That’s nothing,” Luci interjected. “There was once this girl named Lilith in my class, and she had a friend named Ruby. Now get this: they wanted to start a cult worshipping Lucifer.” He paused, then clarified. “Like, Satan-Lucifer, not Me-Lucifer. Anyway, it turns out that they  _ weren’t  _ worshipping Satan-Lucifer. Guess who they were really worshipping.” 

With a sigh, Michael replied. “You, Luce. You’ve told us that story four times now.” 

“But it was so weird!” Luci protested. 

“I dated a girl named Ruby once,” Sam said. “It was actually only a year ago.” Gabe narrowed his eyes as if he would hunt down this Ruby.

“Wait,” Luci smirked. “How old was she?” 

“Fourteen, why?”

“Blonde hair, hazel eyes?”

“No, mine had dark hair and brown eyes,” Sam said. “What, did you think it was the same Ruby?”

“It could have been. My Ruby was only thirteen at the time.”

“You had a class with a thirteen-year-old?” Jo asked. 

“It was  _ Latin _ . We were both in Latin 3, so there,” Luci stuck his tongue out. 

“Sammy and I used to take Latin,” Dean mentioned. “We only took it till 2, though.”

“I took Latin 1, then gave up,” Jo put in. 

Cas shrugged. “Never took Latin. Neither has Gabe.” Michael rolled his eyes. 

“Time for Christmas movies, guys,” he announced, stopping the conversation. 

Another thing about the Novak’s Christmas traditions was what their go-to Christmas movie was. Of course, it  _ was  _ the greatest Christmas movie ever made, albeit a little unorthodox.

But still, the entire group of eight people, plus Chuck, shut the hell up when they turned on Die Hard. 

The couches were pressed for space, so seniority ruled. Luci and Michael sat on one end, Michael’s arm draped around Luci’s shoulder. Chuck sat on the other side, manning the remote. On the other couch, Cas and Dean took up the whole space. Dean was half lying down and half sitting up, and Cas had his head resting on Dean’s chest. 

Jo and Charlie had claimed the armchair, squishing in with each other. Sam and Gabriel just flung themselves onto the piled beanbags and pillows, pulling a fuzzy blanket over their legs unceremoniously. The Novaks, apparently, had watched Die Hard enough times that they could quote nearly the whole movie. They also had a system where they would try to mimic Alan Rickman as Hans Gruber, and whoever did it best would get some prize. 

Luci apparently won, every year. Cas leaned over to whisper in Dean’s ear. “We all practice all year, yet he somehow always wins,” he complained. Dean ruffled his boyfriend’s hair. That word still seemed strange and special to him. Boyfriend.

“I still like yours best, though,” he whispered back. Cas smiled and leaned into Dean a little more. 

They were interrupted when Gabe’s favorite line came up, which Gabriel quotes and imitated with surprising accuracy. “Come out to the coast, we’ll get together, have a few laughs,” he said in a perfect echo of John McClane. It impressed Dean that he could be so spot-on with the imitations. 

After the movie came to an end and the laughter and Hans Gruber imitations stopped, everyone went to a room to sleep. Sam and Gabe raced up the stairs, hand-in-hand, with Luci and Michael following at a slower pace. Jo and Charlie said goodbye and went home: they were sleeping at Ellen’s and Bobby’s house. Chuck left for his office, which had become his bedroom as well as he finished the last bits of his book. 

That left Dean and Cas on the couch. Dean had both of Cas’ hands in his, feeling the rise and fall of Cas’ breath as they laid there. Slowly, Cas fell asleep on Dean’s chest and Dean fell asleep on the couch after pressing a soft kiss to Cas’ forehead. 

Sam and Gabe were in Gabe’s room, both of them looking at each other with smiles on their faces. They didn’t say anything, but they didn’t need to talk to know what the other was thinking. Gabe traced little drawings on Sam’s hand and arm, running his finger over the soft skin. There was a look in Sam’s eyes as he watched Gabriel that could only be described as pure, undiluted love.

Gabe’s finger traced around Sam’s palm, following the lines and creases in the skin. Sam caught his hand and held it loosely, causing Gabe to look up into those sunflower eyes. See the emotion buried deep in there. Sam had wondered if he should even tell Gabriel what he was thinking, if it would put a strain on their relationship or mess it up completely. 

But he said it anyway. “I love you,” he whispered. Gabe’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before he replied.

“I love you, too,” he said. 

Sam slid over on the bed, closer to Gabriel until their bodies were next to each other. He guided Gabe’s hand to rest over Sam’s heart until he felt the beat there. 

Gabe smiled because he could feel how erratic the beat really was. “I want to show you something,” he said, then slid off the bed. It was second nature to him, to silently slide open his window, grabbing a blanket and pillows before climbing out onto his snow-coated roof. Sam crawled out after him reaching out to steady himself. Gabe grabbed his hand and helped him find his balance as he sat down. In the distance, he could see the lights of the city. 

“It’s beautiful,” Sam whispered. His eyes were fixated on the skyline, and the stars they could see above them. 

“I come out here a lot, to clear my head.” He didn’t mention the time he raced frantically to Charlie’s house two months earlier. “See over there?” He pointed to a black spot. “That’s a little forest. Sometimes I’ll go into it. There’s a little creek that runs through the whole thing, it’s actually really nice.” 

Gabe leaned over and rested his head on Sam’s shoulder. Like clockwork, Sam wrapped an arm around him and pulled him in tighter. 

Chuck’s typewriter clicked methodically as he typed. His mind was only half there, answering questions that he knew the fans would have.  _ How did Jared get out of Hell? How did the angel Misha forget Jared’s soul? Would the lack of soul drive Jared mad?  _ Yes, Chuck decided on the last one. Maybe it would make Jared a little less emotional…

There was a light thunk on the roof above him, and Chuck smiled. Gabe thought that Chuck didn’t know about when he sat on the roof at night, or even when he ‘snuck out’ to see Charlie. Whenever Chuck heard Gabe moving on the roof, he would send a text to Charlie’s parents to let them know that Gabe was coming over. It was a little system to make sure their kids were safe. 

This time, though, there were two thunks, and Chuck quietly climbed up the stairs. He peeked through Gabe’s door and saw Sam and Gabe on the roof. He smiled again. He was glad all of his sons were in good relationships. People sometimes asked him why he would let his sons be in a relationship with boys. Truth was, Chuck didn’t really care. He had had girlfriends and boyfriends back when he actually dated people. What really mattered was that they were happy.

And when Gabriel laughed quietly at something Sam said, Chuck knew that they were. 

So he crept down the stairs again and wrote a note on his desk. He scratched at the paper with a drying-up pen and got back to typing. Typing, typing, typing, until he got to the end. He looked back at the paper and read it again. 

Chuck was happy with his work. So he typed the two word to mark the finality of his book.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this about six months ago and I never expected it to go on this long. This was the first fanfiction I posted on any site and the feedback I got on this made it all the better. Thank you all so much for reading and please leave kudos and comments to tell me how you liked it!


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